The Forsaken Twin
by SerafinaMoon
Summary: What if after that fateful Halloween night, the Potters thought young Harry was possessed by Voldemort to spy on Dumbledore’s plans and the BWL? What if they sent him away and he became an assassin? It’s his job to kill Dumbledore...Year 6
1. The BoyWhoLived

**Title:** The Forsaken Twin

**Author:** Serafina Moon

**Date:** October 13, 2007-October 21, 2007; May 12-May 15, 2008

**Summary: **What if after that fateful Halloween night, the Potters thought young Harry was possessed by Voldemort to spy on Dumbledore's plans and the BWL? What if they sent him away and he became an assassin? It's his job to kill Dumbledore...Year 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, or themes. I will not profit from this story except receiving enjoyment of your questions, comments, and input on this work.

**Claimer:** I do, however, own this story and its plot and any Original Characters that I may use during the duration of the story making process.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Boy-Who-Lived**

* * *

The late afternoon sun painted the normally azure sky pink, red, and gold. A slight rustle through the multicolored leaves, caused some of them to drift to the ground, one of the characteristics of the fall season. A lovely house, at the end of a row of houses, was decorated with orange, black, and white streamers to symbolize the Halloween holiday. A pumpkin carved into a jack-o-lantern looked out across the lawn from its seat on the porch.

Shrieking laughter rang throughout the yard as two young boys raced around, two feet off the ground, on a pair of Brocklehurst's Best Baby Brooms. They were so close together, each riding side by side, that their father, who was chasing after them in a game of tag, was afraid one of them would knock the other off if either of them made even the slightest move the other was not expecting.

He needn't have worried, however; the twin boys almost seemed to share a single mind, they interpreted each others movements so accurately; it was almost as if one knew what the other were thinking. Unfortunately, whether he knew it or not, James Potter would not be able to stop worrying about his twin sons in any case. As any parent would, he calculated the risk to his children's safety; his thoughts circulating between negative and positive scenarios of what could possibly happen.

_If one of them falls off, it can't be that bad. After all, they're only two feet off the ground! But what if they fall on something sharp, like a rock in the yard? What do I do then? Maybe I'll just tell them not to ride so close to each other. How do I do it and still be the fun parent. Blame it on Lily of course!_

"Boys! Don't let your mother catch you riding so close to each other like that! She'll have a fit!"

_That should do the trick._

"Okay, daddy!" one of the little boys called out to him.

James looked smug for a moment before he noticed the boys simply glance over at the window where their mother was working, and seeing that she was not paying any attention to them whatsoever, kept right on doing what James had just told them not to do.

_Well, that worked, didn't it?_ James thought, resigned, releasing a sigh and shaking his head. He was smiling though, as he continued chasing after Harry and Evan, pretending as though he could not catch them on their toy brooms.

James noticed the dynamic duo conspiring together. They would whisper between themselves and surreptitiously glance back at their father who pretended not to see the way they were plotting. It was just too amusing to watch.

Harry looked over at James again, only this time he shouted, "Come get me, daddy!" while Evan called out in a sing-song voice, "Nana nana, you can't catch me!"

A mischievous glint gleamed in James hazel eyes, which were hidden behind black, round-rimmed glasses that shimmered in the sunlight. James took off after the two boys who were _still_ riding too close together, and tackled them to the ground as soon as he was close enough, careful not to hurt them by being too rough with them.

The three of them were happily rolling around on the ground laughing and wrestling when Lily paused from fixing dinner to look out the window at her boys. She smiled a content little smile and amusedly thought: _I seem to have an extra four-year old._

_Now, If only we didn't have a maniac Dark Lord on the loose trying to kill our little boys, we'd be all set._

Lily's thoughts became morose as she considered the threat of the prophecy hanging over their family. It stated that one of her children would have power Voldemort had no knowledge of and it would be the task of this child to 'vanquish' the Dark Lord. Before that, Voldemort would come to mark his equal and in order for him to do that he would need to get close enough to her children to mark one of them.

Despite how much Lily was determined to keep this from happening; she knew that the prophecy foretold that it would, nonetheless, come to pass. There would come a point in time when she would not be able to protect her little boys from the threat that faced them. She could not bear the thought of it.

She remembered the day Albus had gathered her, James, and Alice and Frank Longbottom in his office right after her twins and Alice's baby were born at the end of July.

Lily and James each held one of the twins while Alice kept her baby boy Neville close to her chest. They had all been so small then, so delicate. Harry had sported his father's wild black hair in a small tuft on his soft head, while Evan seemed to have taken after his mother, his hair a rich amber color.

It was almost as if the two boys had traded features between each other from her and James each. It was slightly eerie the way Harry had his father's hair and her eyes when Evan had her hair and his father's eyes. When they were first born, Lily had expected them to look exactly alike, but only the face and body structure were shared between them.

Little Neville, however, looked extraordinarily like his mother. She could tell he would have his father's strength though. While both Harry and Evan were sound asleep in their parent's arms, Neville was a bundle of energy, wiggling inside his blankets.

Lily vaguely noticed Albus enter the room as she was making these comparisons between their sons. She knew the news had to be dire with the way Albus' entire manner reminded her just how old he was and the lack of that marvelous twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes.

He told them then, about the prophecy that would connect one of their families to that evil menace; it would all depend on who Voldemort feared to be his biggest threat.

Morbidly, Lily was interested to know which he would choose; would it be the purebloods or the half bloods?

Lily shook her head slightly, noticing the dark track her thoughts had turned towards. She looked out the window in front of her again as she washed her hands absently. James was still rolling around on the ground, _getting all of them dirty so I have to clean them up and wash their clothes,_ thought Lily with a slight smile playing around her lips, although she tried to suppress it so she could look stern when she called them all in for dinner.

_There is still hope,_ Lily's thoughts encouraged her; both her family and the Longbottoms were under the Fidelius Charm, which accorded them a fair amount of protection. As long as everyone continued believing Sirius was the Secret Keeper instead of Peter. Lily was amazed and proud of her friends' courage and willingness to risk themselves to protect the Potter family.

Not wanting to dwell on the danger to the people she cared most for, Lily instead concentrated on the job at hand, getting the table set so everyone could eat.

When that chore was finished, she opened the door and called out, "Dinner is ready!" then stepped back to watch as all three males scrambled to their feet to rush towards the dinning room, leaving their toys discarded on the lawn.

_Good thing the Fidelius keeps people from seeing inside the yard, otherwise we would have broken the ban on Magical-Muggle Secrecy years ago._

Lily gave a disdainful sniff at her boys' dusty appearance and noticed all three had bits of leaves in their wild, untamable hair. Her husband smiled at her sheepishly, leaning over for a kiss. She gave him a quick peck before stepping back to crinkle her nose and say, "Ugh! James! You taste like dirt!"

"Er," he muttered, abashed, "we did kinda roll around on the ground for a while."

"Well, just make sure you and the boys clean yourselves up and wash your hands especially before you touch any of that food on the table!"

"Yes, mother," James muttered, stalking past her with a long-suffering kind of expression.

"What was that, Potter?" Lily gave him a sharp look she did not mean, and James quickened his pace.

"Nothing, nothing, just said, 'okay,' is all."

"Hmph," said Lily, arms crossed over her chest, but she was smiling.

Once they were all sitting around the table, ready to eat, James ask, "Have you talked to Peter any? He's supposed to come over some time today. I think Sirius said he might come with him."

"No, I haven't heard from Peter at all today. And why wouldn't they all come over today? I thought Remus as well as Sirius and Peter were coming over to spend Halloween with the boys."

"I think Remus might be doing something for Dumbledore. Sirius is too, but he might finish early so he can come over."

"Oh."

All of a sudden, there was a _whoosh_ as the salt shaker went careening through the air, flying straight towards the Potter's youngest son. Harry picked up the salt shaker and happily salted the juicy tomato he had picked up from his plate.

Harry grinned up at his parents after he had taken a bite, red tomato juice dripping down his chin and arm as he said, "Thanks for dinner, mum!"

"You're welcome, Harry," Lily said, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress her mirth. She could not help it; her little boys were just too cute. It had certainly been an adventure trying to raise two magical children. Each day, Lily developed a new appreciation for how her parents must have felt raising her. And _they_ hadn't even known about magic beforehand!

She was amazed, however, at how proficient Harry had gotten with his magic. Both boys had shown an aptitude for magic since they were very young. Once they had recognized what their bottle and pacifier looked like and what it was for, if they ever wanted it, they would simply summon it to themselves even if they had a hard time picking the object up to put in their mouth.

It was the same way for their toys. Once the boys were old enough to start playing with blocks and their stuffed animals, they would summon them.

It had been rather difficult to wean the boys of their pacifiers because every time Lily had hid their pacifiers they would summon them back. She had needed to charm them with an anti-summoning charm to keep the boys from getting to them. Unfortunately, once they realized they were not getting their pacifiers back, they started sucking on their thumbs.

Lily had at first wondered how on earth she was going to get them to stop that habit when Alice Longbottom had shown her a nifty little spell that could be applied to the toddler's thumbs. It would make their fingers taste horrible each time the child put them in their mouth, which should break them of the habit eventually.

Lily was so grateful that she and Alice had given birth to their boys around the same time. Lily did not have a clue of what she was doing half the time, but it always seemed as if Alice knew exactly what to do in every situation that related to children. Lily was in awe of her skills and repeatedly went to her childhood friend for help.

If it were not for Alice, Lily would not have had a clue what to do when the boys vanished all the water from the tub when they did not want to take a bath, or what spell was best to keep the children from falling down the stairs. Some of the things Alice taught Lily were so simple, but so very important for the child's safety. Lily had wanted a family ever since she had attended Hogwarts, but now that she had one, she doubted herself, wondering if she was doing the right thing as a mother.

Alice helped her get past her insecurities and showed her that while it was hard work to raise a child, mostly they just needed lots of love and care, which Lily thought she did rather a good job of, for the most part anyway.

Lily did wonder about her boys sometimes. Evan still used magic when he wanted something, but for the most part he did not seem as fascinated by the magic as Harry did. Harry would use his magic constantly, almost like Lily had when she had turned seventeen. Even though she had been able to do magic before at Hogwarts, it was nice once she had come of age to do magic for everything, just because she was free to use her magic at anytime.

That was how Harry was. Magic was a toy to him; he used accidental magic when he felt strongly about something, but he would also use magic just to play with it. It was mesmerizing to watch as he conjured shapes and created lights in midair to float around him. Sometimes he would even chase his creations when Evan was absorbed in coloring a picture or some other independent activity and Harry was left by himself to play.

His favorite, however, was flying. Both boys loved to fly; they got it from James, surely. But ever since Sirius had sent them their toy brooms, they would go out everyday to skim the grass with their toes, hover in midair, and play tag. Lily always laughed at their antics and knew that one day they would both love to play Quidditch.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the Floo in the sitting room chimed to let them know a call was coming through. James went to answer it and came back a few seconds later with Peter in tow.

"Hey, Pete," Lily said, a friendly smile gracing her lips. "Did Sirius not finish whatever he was doing in time to come with you?"

"Actually, Lily, there's an emergency. The Order is needed over at the Longbottoms. Death Eaters are attacking their wards as we speak. If the Order gets there in time, we might be able to stop them from even getting in. Dumbledore needs the both of you over there right away."

Lily was up in a flash, wand in hand, ready to go, but she hesitated and said, "What about the boys. Someone needs to look after them."

"That's why I'm here. I'll keep an eye on them while you to go to the Longbottoms'. After all, you helped construct some of those wards; it's best you help, since you know how to exploit their strengths and defend their weaknesses."

"Are you sure, Wormtail? You're looking a bit peaky," Lily said, concern lacing her voice as she studied his drawn, pale appearance.

"Yeah, I've just been real busy lately. Not getting enough sleep; no need to worry about me."

"Well, if you're sure."

"I am."

"All right, we'll catch you later; thanks, mate. Look after the boys," James echoed, then turned sternly to his children and said, "Mind your Uncle Peter, boys."

With that, he swiftly disappeared in a pillar of green flames.

Pettigrew sighed in relief, and relaxed a bit now that both adults had left the premises.

"What's wrong, Uncle Peter?" Evan asked.

"Nothing, Evan, nothing at all."

The twins looked at each other in confusion as their Uncle Peter began displaying more signs of his nervousness instead of less. Something was wrong; they both knew it, but neither Evan nor Harry could figure out what could make Wormtail look so scared.

In fact, only a moment passed before he blanched, turning as white as a sheet, almost as if he had seen a ghost.

Harry sensed a curious tingling sensation almost as if it were raining through the ceiling onto Harry's head. Suddenly, he felt as if a chilly wind had blown through the room, making everything seem cold and unsafe.

"What was that, Uncle Peter?" Harry asked curiously.

"What was what, Harry?" Wormtail asked, his voice barely a whisper and extremely hoarse.

Harry explained what he had felt and Wormtail replied, "Oh, nothing. Just the wards coming down; I'm expecting a guest."

"Who?"

"You will see in a minute, I expect."

Uncle Peter was right; time advanced only a few seconds before the door was blasted open causing both boys to jump back in fright. Evan and Harry both noticed that Uncle Peter started as well, as they ran to hide behind him.

A man walked in through the blasted doorway; his robes billowed ominously around him as he hissed in a high, cruel voice, "So, one of these is the child fated to be my downfall. In that case, I will have to dispose of them both. Unless you know which boy the prophecy speaks of, Wormtail?"

"N-n-no, m-m-my Lord," Wormtail said, his chubby frame convulsing with miniature trembles of fear. "Al-although, this one, H-harry is the youngest, so he'd be th-the one born c-c-closest to the end of the m-month.

Harry thought the man looked like one of the monsters he always imagined that hid under his bed. He wanted to scream for his mummy and daddy so one of them could pick him up and protect him, but his parents were gone. He only had his Uncle Peter to protect him, but his uncle was shaking so much that Harry thought Uncle Peter looked like he needed Harry's daddy to defend him too.

"Nonetheless, I can not take the chance that either may be my downfall. Already my loyal followers are making sure the Longbottom boy will pose no threat to me. Now, Wormtail, stand aside so I may deal with these brats."

"Y-yes, M-master," Uncle Peter said before he crossed over to where the snake-like man was standing, leaving the boys to face the monster on their own.

Harry and Evan clung to each other desperately as the one thing standing between them and the monster disappeared. Both boys were extremely scared and Harry could feel his magic building within him, ready to protect him.

Harry was not quite sure yet what the monster was going to do to him, so he forced his magic to wait until the evil man did something.

When Voldemort pointed his yew wand at the oldest twin and said funny words like Harry's mummy and daddy did when they used magic, Harry made his magic get ready to do something.

When a jet of green light came shooting out of the end of the monster's stick and head straight for the two boys, Harry made his magic wrap around him and his brother, and he closed his eyes tightly, wishing the light would not hurt them.

He could almost feel it as the cold stream of magic was engulfed by Harry's own aura and then reflected back after just making contact with Evan's forehead, cutting the skin in a jagged pattern.

There was a high-pitched scream and Harry opened his eyes in surprise to see the monster writhing in agony as his own green light struck him in the chest as his body collapsed. An explosion rocked the house as the Dark Lord's spirit was whisked away from his falling body and the ceiling started to crack. Pieces began falling down into the dinning room and the twins screamed.

They looked around for a place to hide, but the table smashed as a large bit of ceiling tile fell on it and the door and hallways were blocked off since they were closest to where the explosion had taken place. Evan dragged Harry over to the cabinets under the sink, and they clambered inside, huddling together, Harry's magic still shielding them from portions of the house falling on their hiding place.

Harry's concentration on his magic had broken as he tried to firmly wedge both Evan and himself inside the cabinet, so both boys jumped and screamed as a large chunk of ceiling landed on the open cabinet door, ripping it from its hinges as the rubble barely missed Harry's foot, which he hastened to pull inside their hidey-hole. He also hurried to restore the magical shield he had anchored around him and his twin.

Harry looked around noticed that Uncle Peter was gone; he and Evan were by themselves. Tears came to his eyes He did not want to be alone; not with the house caving in around him and certainly not with the monster hiding somewhere nearby.

Evan hugged him, sparkling moisture filling his eyes as well. They both began to cry, yelling for their mummy and daddy over and over, and receiving no answer.

Their cries became more desperate and piercing as they shrieked in fear. Harry's magic, which still surrounded them, swirled around the two boys like an angry snake, leaping out and striking everything it could reach. It tore blocks of ceiling and roof apart whenever it came near the boys so that the debris landed near them instead of on top of them.

The boys continued screaming as the house settled around them, and still their mummy and daddy did not come. The boys knew their parents had left, but they were in a scary situation and they wanted their mummy and daddy to come; because of this, they continued crying until they were exhausted.

Evan collapsed before Harry did, his magic still swept over them, giving him a rush of adrenaline that kept him going just long enough for Harry to pull his magic back inside of himself.

When he did, however, Harry felt something foreign about a part of his magic. Almost as if some different entity were clinging to his magic. Harry pulled it closer so he could examine it and when he reached out to touch it, it seemed to latch onto him painfully.

It almost seemed to jump at him and began merging with his magical core. It was agony; Harry screamed in pain with what little voice he had left until he blacked out from the pain.

* * *

"James, look out!" Sirius yelled.

James dropped, barely missing the jet of sickly purple light, which indicated a dark arts spell, soaring over his head. James grinned at Sirius, thanking him and continued fighting.

Despite the cocky confidence he had displayed all throughout the battle, he had a terrible feeling something was wrong. Everyone considered Alice and Frank wonderful Aurors; they had captured many of Voldemort's followers over the past few years, somewhat crippling the Dark Lord's support system. It was for this reason that most of the Order, and probably some of the Death Eaters, believed Voldemort was working so hard to eliminate the Longbottoms. Only those directly involved knew the full contents of the prophecy and the _real_ reason Voldemort was working so hard to eradicate the threat of his rule: Dumbledore, James, Lily, Sirius and Remus (as godfathers to the twins), and Alice and Frank Longbottom.

James felt uneasy with the lack of Voldemort's presence. Most, if not all, of his top Death Eaters were here so it was obvious that he meant to kill the Longbottom's tonight, but unless the Dark Lord was already inside the house—which James considered unlikely as there would be a commotion—or hiding invisibly somewhere outside—also unlikely since he would have come to help when the Order started overpowering his Death Eaters—it meant that the Dark Lord was not present.

_That_ meant that he was somewhere else, which did not make any sense; he would want to be there when one of the candidates of the prophecy died. James wondered if it was all a diversion and the real threat was not as evident.

James frowned, but knew there was no way Voldemort could be at Godric's Hollow; the children were under the protection of the Fidelius Charm and only the Secret Keeper could tell that monster how to get inside. Furthermore, that same Secret Keeper was inside the house babysitting at that very moment; besides, there was no way Peter would betray his friends in such a manner. James felt certain each of the Marauders considered their brotherhood important enough that any one of them would die for another.

James knew there was no reason for his paranoia, but he could not help but worry over how wrong everything seemed. However, he needed to concentrate on the battle before him, so he pushed all his doubts and fears to the back of his mind. Indecision would only get him killed.

James dodged out of the way of another oncoming spell and found himself back to back with his best friend and brother, in everything except blood, Sirius Black.

"You having fun yet, Padfoot, ol' boy?" James shouted over the din of screams, curses, and yelled incantations.

"Course! I love parties; especially when I crash 'em!" Sirius replied exuberantly, barking out a laugh as he traded spells with three Death Eaters in front of him.

James wondered how he did it; apparently the Death Eaters did too judging from their bewildered looks as Sirius kept a shield up while simultaneously casting spells. That was when James remembered Sirius' spare wand that he only used on 'special occasions.'

He was forced to focus again as a few of the Death Eaters in front of him decided to take a leaf out of their comrades' book and barrage James with curses, hexes, and jinxes. Not having a spare wand handy like Sirius, James conjured a golden shield to physically block the curses coming his way. Since he was so good at Transfiguration and feeling exceptionally confident this evening, James had even added a red lion to symbolize Gryffindor on the front of his shield.

He tried not to worry about Lily, who was battling on the other side of the field; they had purposely separated from each other because James knew even a moment's hesitation could be fatal; if he was too worried about defending her, he would be unable to take care of himself.

James was able to transfigure a few of the Death Eaters into inanimate objects to keep them stationary. Unfortunately, the others were starting to realize that they were no match for the more outgoing pair of the Marauders and were seeking to overcome their disadvantage by using physical force instead of spells. Those that remained began drawing their circle in tighter, leaving the duo nowhere to dodge and forcing them to fight in close quarters.

'So, you wanna play it that way, do ya?' James thought right before he began slinging his shield around in every direction, hitting all the Death Eaters he could with the hard, metallic object in his hands. Despite the unorthodox method, it was pretty effective.

James heard Sirius's Death Eaters yelling in surprise and wondered what kind of creativity his friend had cooked up this time. He did not dare look behind him, as he faced down several of his own challengers crowded around him. However, he knew it had to be humiliating, because that was the way the Marauders fought—playfully. James and Sirius always ended up in situations just like this one when they did field work as Aurors. Every single time, the pair would not only outmaneuver and outfight their opponents, but they also seemed to find a way to prank their victims in the middle of it all as well. It was a measure of how skilled and creative they could be, but it was also extremely risky to play around in such a fashion in the middle of a fight.

Lily constantly berated him for doing it, not wanting him to get overconfident and thus end up hurt in some way. It had taken several years of her constant nagging, "Better safe than sorry," for him to finally tone down the pranks while he fought, but he also knew that if you could make your enemy angry enough, they were likely to make mistakes.

James dodged to the right as a spell went soaring past, and he felt Sirius follow him. They both knew that, since they were back to back, if one dodged out of the way, the other would get hit if he didn't. The two had perfected the back to back fighting style a long time ago as students when they fought against Slytherins.

Spells and curses zipped all around the battlefield, faster than the eye could follow, leaving trails of colored light in their wake. James' wand hand was a blur of motion as he cast a barrage of spells at the adversaries around him, but as soon as he took one down, another Death Eater quickly filled in the gap.

He was so focused on the fight in front of him that he failed to register Sirius dodging something behind him, which meant _he_ needed to move too. He tried to get out of the way, but was too slow and the curse seared his side as it soared by.

"You okay, Prongs?" Sirius asked, his voice concerned, as James hissed in pain, clutching his side with his free hand, and continuing use his wand to duel with the other.

"Yeah, just peachy," James said through gritted teeth.

While Sirius probably knew that James was lying, he was smart enough to assume that the injury was not worrisome enough to try and Apparate his friend to safety.

James used a lull in the fight after taking down several Death Eaters to mutter the counter curse to the spell that hit him, and tap the wound with his wand. Almost immediately the pain leaked out of his side and he was able to breathe easier.

Looking back up to deal with whatever foe now awaited him, James was shocked to realize that all the Death Eaters were gone, including those who had already been taken down. All the Death Eaters they had captured were gone.

Remus came up to them, followed by several other members of the Order, and asked, "Did we get any of them? I don't sense any more Death Eaters, do you?"

"No," said James, panting a bit.

"You're getting old, Prongs!" Sirius crowed, a smirk plastered to his face, covering the concern he was trying to hide from the others. Sirius knew James would get mad at him if he were the one to make Lily aware of his friend's injury.

James smiled back at them, holding out a hand to take Lily into his arms, "It's because Lily's fattening me up so much with her marvelous cooking."

She grinned at him, but looked away again, back towards what looked like three slightly indistinguishable figures heading for the group of Order members. Frank and Alice Longbottom came into view, Dumbledore leading the couple towards the group with little Neville perched on Alice's hip.

Lily examined them critically. Alice and Frank both seemed calm, but they were Aurors and knew how to keep their head in a crisis, but little Neville was shaking and clinging to his mother. Lily imagined the poor boy had never heard so much screaming and seen so many flashing lights before.

"Oh, poor thing," Lily cooed. "He must have been terrified."

"He did all right," Frank said; his deep, rumbling voice was full of pride as he looked down at his son and wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders. "He was quiet and watchful, but didn't cry any. He's definitely going into Gryffindor, I think."

Alice smiled and shook her head; her voice was sweet and melodious as she spoke, "That's because he had his mummy and daddy with him the whole time. I can't imagine how this might have affected him if we weren't there with him. I know I've heard that children who face such serious trauma at such a young age will often find themselves haunted by it for many years afterward."

Albus Dumbledore interrupted their light conversation with Order intelligence, saying, "There was only a little bit of damage done to the house, but until we get the house fixed up and the wards repaired, the Longbottoms will be staying at Hogwarts in some of the spare teacher's quarters."

"That's good. Why don't you come on over to our house for a little bit while you wait on the house elves to get your suite ready? Lily's been slaving away all day trying to prepare our Halloween feast. I'm afraid we had to run out on Harry and Evan once we heard what happened." James told the couple.

"That sounds lovely. Are you sure we won't be imposing?" Alice asked kindly.

"Not at all, and we have plenty of food. We were expecting Sirius and Peter to come over anyways, and you know how much they eat, so there is definitely enough for the three of you."

James winked at Sirius and Remus, one of whom appeared ready to hex the myopic Marauder and the other looking faintly amused.

"If you don't mind, we'd love to."

James smiled and turned back to Sirius and Remus. "You know, Moony, that offer's open for you too. We weren't expecting you back from your mission quite yet, but we'd be glad to have you."

"And I'd be glad to attend. Besides, we can't have the twins missing out on seeing their Uncle Moony, now can we?"

"Definitely not!"

Before they could leave, Sirius pulled James slightly away from everyone else and asked, "Don't you think you need to get that looked at, James?" as he indicated the gash in James' side.

"Don't worry, Padfoot; I'll get a bandage on it as soon as I get home. I don't want Lily to worry."

"You don't think she might notice something like that sooner or later? You might as well just tell her and get it over with."

"And what should I say? Hey, honey, I've got a boo-boo; could you kiss it for me and make it better? Would that satisfy you?"

Sirius suppressed a burst of laughter at the thought of James saying such a thing to his wife, and replied, "Actually, that would 'satisfy' me quite a bit. Just don't mind the maniacal laughter behind you if you do!"

"Very funny," James deadpanned, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Look, I'm fine, it doesn't even hurt anymore. Can we leave now? Everyone's waiting for us."

"Okay, fine, whatever," Sirius said, throwing his hands into the air in defeat.

The two returned to the others and with that, the group split up, going their separate ways. Since everybody who was traveling to the Potter's house had already been clued in to the location of their house in Godric's Hollow, they all Apparated to the Potter home, only to be met with absolute chaos.

The six adults all gaped at the obvious destruction to the small cottage, and it did not take long to rouse Lily and James from their stupor. As soon as they saw the damage, they both ran towards the house, yelling their sons' names. The others took off after the couple, only a few steps behind.

They entered the building cautiously, picking their way through the debris to the dinning room where the Potters had left their two boys. Lily and James were devastated as they began frantically searching for their children, calling their names.

Frank told Alice to take Neville back outside and call the Order back. "The building doesn't look stable and I don't want anything to happen to you or Neville. Don't worry, I'll help James and the others look for their kids."

She nodded to him and began picking her way back around the rubble, circumspectly making her way back outside to summon the Order and Dumbledore. They arrived a few minutes later due to their already heightened alert from the Longbottoms. They all noticed the devastation and Dumbledore asked, "Who all was supposed to be in the house?"

"From what I understand, it was Peter and the twins."

Dumbledore nodded and waved his wand, casting a spell the others had not seen before. It lit up the area in a wide spectrum of colors while the Order looked bewildered; however, Dumbledore seemed to understand what he was seeing perfectly and took off into the house, some of the Order following and some staying with Alice and Neville to search the premises.

Once inside the demolished building, Dumbledore and a few of the Order members met up with James, Frank, and the others.

"Have you found anything yet?" Dumbledore asked them, still looking around at the different colors from his spell, analyzing them, determining where the most magical power sources were.

"No, not yet," Frank replied softly.

"What happened, Albus?" they asked him.

He replied, "I suspect that this is the reason Voldemort was not present at the Longbottom's residence. He came here to kill the Potters."

The crowd gasped, but James thought it made sense. He had wondered where Voldemort was during the battle, and now he had his answer.

Dumbledore drifted off towards an exceptionally bright, golden glow coming from the cabinets under the sink in the kitchen. They were blocked by wreckage, and it took the team several minutes to get through to the cabinet where they found two little boys, resting beside each other, still clinging to each others' clothes.

The Headmaster carefully levitated the two boys out from under the sink so that they hovered before their parents, who each clutched their children to themselves with worried intensity.

"Oh thank Merlin!" Lily cried, holding onto her amber-haired son Evan.

"But where's Peter?" James asked stupidly.

Sirius stepped in at this question, understanding the implications almost immediately, and said, "Don't you get it, James? Peter's the traitor! It's been him all along!"

"W-what?" James spluttered.

"You do remember that I switched being Secret Keepers with him, right?"

James nodded tentatively, but the other Order members burst out with exclamations of "What?" "When?" and "Why didn't you tell us?"

Sirius ignored them and said fiercely, "So, if Peter was the Secret Keeper and somehow Voldemort managed to discover the location of your house in Godric's Hollow, how do you think he did it?"

"But Peter would never tell!"

"Wouldn't he? Whoever Voldemort is getting his information from, they're obviously close to you and in the Order. Peter has always followed those who will protect him. That used to be us, but now it looks like he's found someone else."

"It can't be! Peter would never do that! Voldemort must have tortured it out of him!"

Lily shook her head, coming to the logical conclusion as well, "I'm sorry, James, but I think Sirius is right. He looked perfectly fine when he came over to tell us about the attack on the Longbottoms. If he had that information tortured out of him, why didn't he warn us before we left? Why hasn't he said anything?"

"He was probably memory charmed afterwards!"

"No, James. Think about it, he was nervous and pale when he arrived. I thought he looked sick before, but it makes sense now. He was expecting Voldemort to come. Besides, we knew there was a spy in the Order; after all, they've been passing information to Voldemort for almost a year now."

"They're right," said Remus slowly, putting together the pieces. "Voldemort knows how much we trust each other; he must have thought we'd never suspect Peter, and he was correct. Peter's the one who never seemed to think he fit in very well with us; a 'tag along,' he used to say."

"When did he say that?"

"When we were still in school. It was during one of our study sessions when I was trying to help him with homework. You two berks had finished hours before, and were off somewhere planning a prank."

"But...how could he?" said James softly, looking down at the little boy he held in his arms. Harry did not stir, just continued to clutch at his father's shirt with a vice-like grip. James brushed Harry's fringe off his forehead before giving him a tiny butterfly kiss.

"Are they okay, Albus?" Lily asked looking at Harry's still form as well.

Dumbledore examined Harry for a moment, prodding him softly with his wand and said, "He's magically exhausted. From what my earlier scans of the house showed me, the boys were originally in the dinning room where the explosion seemed to originate. From what I noticed of the way the debris fell, it appears to have been Harry's magic that kept the ceiling from falling on the boys. They apparently ran to hide in the kitchen cabinets where Harry continued to use magic to protect them until he passed out. That's why all this debris seemed to land around these cabinents instead of on top of them, and why we had such a hard time digging them out."

When Dumbledore went over to inspect Evan, however, they all noticed the thin, lightening-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Lily gasped and asked, "I thought you said none of the debris hit them!"

Dumbledore barely seemed to listen as he muttered and _hmm_ed to himself. Finally, he looked up at them and said, "You are correct, he was not cut by wreckage. This scar was made by Dark Magic."

"What does that mean, Albus?" Lily asked fearfully, the implication of the mark upon her child's forehead slamming into her like a ton of bricks.

Dumbledore looked into Lily's emerald eyes solemnly, his blue eyes seeming to pierce her very soul as he replied, "I think you know exactly what it means, my dear."

Evan Potter had been marked by the Dark Lord, just as the prophecy said.

"What's going on? What are you talking about, Headmaster?" someone asked.

"It appears that this boy has managed to deflect the Unforgivable Killing Curse upon its castor."

Some of the other Order members who were not privy to the contents of the prophecy, gasped, exclaiming, "You mean the boy blocked the Killing Curse? How? There is no possible way! No one has _ever_ survived it before!"

"Are you saying that Voldemort is dead?"

"The war is finally over?"

"That's brilliant!"

"That kid's going to be famous!"

"Evan Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived!"


	2. Parseltongue

Title: The Forsaken Twin

**Title:** The Forsaken Twin

**Author:** Serafina Moon

**Date:** May 20, 2008-May 27, 2008

**Summary: **What if after that fateful Halloween night, the Potters thought young Harry was possessed by Voldemort to spy on Dumbledore's plans and the BWL? What if they sent him away and he became an assassin? It's his job to kill Dumbledore...Year 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, or themes. I will not profit from this story except receiving enjoyment of your questions, comments, and input on this work.

**Claimer:** I do, however, own this story and its plot and any Original Characters that I may use during the duration of the story making process.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Parseltongue**

* * *

Almost two months after that fateful incident on Halloween, the Potter family could be seen making their way towards Diagon Alley. Evan had expressed a desire to get a pet so James and Lily decided to take both boys to pick something out, as well as get all their shopping done for Christmas.

The Leaky Cauldron was filled to capacity as it was around noon on a Saturday, and most witches and wizards wanted to complete their shopping over the weekend before going back to work as well.

As soon as the door opened and the family of four entered the Leaky Cauldron, the entire room seemed to come alive. Everyone raced up to the family to shake hands with the Boy-Who-Lived, Evan Potter. Lily and James made sure to stay close to their son to make sure he was not lost in the crowd, but poor little Harry was just shunted off to the side.

Harry sighed as once again his brother's celebrity status drew Evan into the spotlight. Just like Harry was behind Evan in birth, being the youngest of the twins, he also appeared less magnificent in everything else compared to his brother, just because everyone thought Evan had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

It seemed that no matter where they went, Harry would always be in his brother's shadow. His parents tried to keep things even between the two boys, but there was always something Evan needed that Harry did not. Whether it was more protection so he would be safe, or more training so he could know how to fight, or more attention so he would not get lost in a crowd, Evan was always the center of everything and Harry was pushed off to the side.

Harry thought he knew that his parents loved him, and would spend time with him if they could, but he could not help but feel lonely and a bit neglected as his parents spent more and more time with Evan and less and less time with Harry.

Shaking his head and releasing another sigh, Harry made his way over to the entrance to Diagon Alley, waiting in the empty space between the Leaky Cauldron and the brick wall that shielded the Alley from view. It was nice and quiet in the cramped area behind the store. Trash cans and litter were strewn about and both the brick wall and the backside of the pub were grimy and gritty with muck and dirt.

It took almost fifteen minutes for the Potters to make their way through the crowd to join Harry in front of the Alley entrance. Lily blinked once she saw that Harry was already there, almost as if she had forgotten that Harry had come shopping with them. It made Harry's stomach clench to see that his own parents had forgotten about him, as they were so focused on their amazing son Evan Potter.

"Oh good, you're already here, Harry. Well, we'll just be on our way then," James said, tapping the correct sequence of bricks with his wand to let them all into the Alley.

First, the group made their way to the wizards' bank, Gringotts, to withdraw some money for the shopping trip, winding in and out of yet _another_ crowd. Both boys squealed in delight of the cart ride down to the Potter vault, and waited patiently for their parents to collect some money to return topside with.

After Gringotts, Lily and James lead Harry and Evan over to Ollivanders, where the boys would be selecting their very first wands. Due to the obvious danger presented to the Boy-Who-Lived by the still free Death Eaters, the Potters were able to acquire special privileges for their boys to learn to use magic early.

Previously, during their magical training sessions with their parents, it had been necessary for the twins to share their grandfather Potter's wand. Since they were only allowed to use wanded magic under an adult's supervision, and Evan apparently needed the most training, due to his status, Harry had very little time to practice with it.

Both boys were extremely excited to get their very practice wands. They were fairly hopping where they stood, waiting inside the shop for the illustrious Mr. Ollivander to arrive, which he did only moments later, popping out from behind a shelf of dusty boxes.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

"We're getting practice wands!" Evan said excitedly.

Due to his fame, Evan had become more outspoken while Harry had become more reticent.

Ollivander nodded sagely and walked over to a bin of boxes, all of which were very short so that the wand could be held by a child. He selected about five boxes and opened them, presenting each of the boys with a wand saying, "Just give it a wave."

The twins obeyed their orders, but almost as soon as they started to move, the wands were snatched out of their hands. This was repeated multiple times, to their consternation and Ollivander's obvious pleasure. Finally, as Mr. Ollivander plunged his hand down into the bottom of the bin, they found what they were looking for.

It was amazing. Both boys had just been handed a new set of wands, and it was like watching a mirror as each boy simultaneously raised their wand, brought it swishing down to emit bright silver and gold sparks.

Ollivander clapped formally and said, "Well done, very well done."

As he was boxing the wands up he said, "Very curious, though. Everything about those two wands are the same except for the wood. Both are 6 ½ inches long with phoenix feather core, but while Mr. Evan Potter's wood is Cedar, Mr. Harry Potter's wood is Holly. Both stand for protection, but Cedar stands for healing, purification, and money, unlike Holly, which represents anti-lightening, luck, and dream magic.

"It almost seems as if Mr. Harry Potter could be the antithesis to the bearer of lightning. And if you take that to mean Voldemort, who gave Evan his lightening bolt scar, you might want to watch out for little Harry. This suggests he strongly resents the one who has harmed his brother and may wish to take action against this foe. And if Evan is the only one who has the power to resist You-Know-Who, like he seems to, this can only end with Harry getting hurt. You'll need to watch out for that."

Lily and James were intrigued by this little fact, but the boys were not even bothering to pay attention, they were too busy repeating the trick that flickered gold and silver sparks into being and conversing with each other in frenzied whispers.

Next, the group split up, promising to meet up again at the pet store. This way, they could all pick out each other's presents for Christmas. While James and Evan each rushed off to the Quidditch store like children, Harry dragged his mother into Flourish and Blotts, disappearing in a flash as soon as his mother nodded her consent that it was okay to do so.

Harry raced around, looking for every interesting book he could find on magic. He knew his mother would not let him get his school books early, since that would spoil the thrill of learning things in Hogwarts, so instead, Harry found some books on household spells that could help with cooking, cleaning, and other miscellaneous matters. Another one he found on different charms that he thought his mother might let him try out, and lastly, Harry found a book on Magic Theory that he added to his list.

He did stop in front of a book titled, _Hogwarts, a History_, but thought if he got it, the book might ruin his fun in exploring the castle for himself. In the end, Harry decided that after he had been to Hogwarts for a year, he would get the book to learn more about his school.

Harry found his mother easily enough; she was in the Charms section, looking up different protective charms, which Harry thought his mum would probably use on Evan. He surreptitiously pulled on his mother's sleeve to get her attention.

"You ready to go?" she asked, smiling down at him.

Harry nodded happily. Mother and son paid for the books at the counter, Lily even let Harry hand the clerk the shiny Galleons and Knuts, which he did with relish, as Evan always got to do it when the family was all together.

After the book store, Lily and Harry set off to find presents for everyone. Once that was accomplished, Lily shrunk their purchases and stuffed them into her pockets before the duo went to find the other half of their family.

Finally, the group went to the Magical Menagerie, where Evan and Harry would each be able to pick out a pet for themselves. James followed Evan over to the section where cats, dogs, and owls were located, while Lily allowed Harry to lead her to another part of the store where he found the more 'interesting' animals.

Harry had always been fascinated with snakes. He wondered if his parents would actually get him one if he asked, or if they were too anti-Slytherin to accede to his wishes. Harry looked over the different types of snakes in their cages before finally deciding on one he wanted.

"I want that one, mum," Harry told his mother.

She shook her head in amusement and said, "Boys," in an exasperated manner under her breath, which Harry heard nonetheless, before waving the pet shop owner over to remove the reptile from its container.

"Ah, a fine specimen. This, my boy, is a boomslang. Just to warn you, however, this one is poisonous. I have removed the poison sacks for now, but by the next time it sheds its skin, new ones will have grown back. You will have to bring it back in to have that redone."

Lily acquiesced with little to no hesitation before paying for the creature. Harry oddly wondered if his parents were trying to make up for all the time they had spent with Evan instead of him, thinking that by buying him something expensive he wanted he would just overlook all the things Evan received that Harry didn't. Then again, Harry knew his mother liked Potions and boomslang skin was used to make Polyjuice Potion. He looked up at his mother curiously, before deciding it did not really matter, and turning back to the manager who handed him his new pet inside its aquarium. It even had a handle he could carry it by!

Harry was excited with his present and could not keep himself from squirming just a bit as they waited on James and Evan to come out of the shop. Harry could not take his eyes off the snake; it had round, black eyes, but its scales were a bright green that rivaled Harry's own emerald orbs. The pet shop owner had placed a stick inside the aquarium, which the boomslang had eagerly climbed, entwining itself around the stick.

James and Evan finally came out of the store carrying a graceful-looking white feline. It had ice-blue eyes, and was so small, Harry was sure it could fit in his daddy's palm without poking over the edges.

"Look what I got, Harry," Evan showed him happily. "It's an albino, except for the blue eyes; real albinos have red eyes; at least, that's what the guy said. I'm going to name her Silverstorm."

Harry smiled at his brother as he jumped off the small brick ledge he had been lounging on while waiting for his brother and father.

"Cool! Look at mine! It's a snake! I'm going to name it Jade."

Harry led his brother over to the ledge, on top of which the aquarium containing his snake was resting. Both boys peered into the cage, eyes wide and bright with interest. They both jumped back suddenly as the snake seemed to hiss in annoyance, at least Harry thought so, and tried to strike at the glass, temporarily disorienting itself as its head collided with the solid wall.

The two boys continued staring at the snake for a minute before simultaneously turning to look at each other and saying, "Cool!" in a long, drawn out manner. Lily, noticing this, just shook her head and rolled her eyes.

James looked at his wife in disbelief. "You got him a snake?" he asked, appalled.

"Yes," Lily answered sweetly.

"Wha-...but...how could you? You...you..._Slytherin_!"

Lily just gave her husband a look; one that plainly said '_Is that the best you can come up with?_'

James puffed out his chest and raised himself up indignantly; however, as soon as he opened his mouth, his wife cut him off.

"You know perfectly well that I was in Gryffindor. Besides, are you saying that if one of our boys ended up in Slytherin, you would no longer support them?"

There was a note of warning in her voice, which James was observant enough to catch before he got himself in trouble. He looked over at his boys, both of whom were watching him with avid expressions, wondering what his answer would be.

"Of course not," he said. "But that doesn't mean-"

"Well, if it doesn't matter to you whether they're Slytherin, Gryffindor, or a different House entirely, what should you care if one of our sons has a snake for a pet?"

"It might let Snape in," James mumbled.

"What was that?" Lily asked sharply.

"I just said, 'Nothing,' dear."

"Good."

With that, the family continued on their way, Lily leading and James trudging along behind, sulking.

They made their way back out of Diagon Alley and into the less crowded Leaky Cauldron where Harry's parents Side-Along Apparated him and his brother back home.

Once back inside the refurbished Potter manor in Godric's Hollow, Harry and Evan put their packages away in their rooms and dropped off their pets. Harry set his snake aquarium up on the bay window in his room so his snake would have tons of sunlight, while Evan closed his kitty into the tiled-floor bathroom until it could be taught to use a litter-box.

The twins met each other coming out of their rooms, wands in hand, silent communication passing between them with matching mischievous gleams in their eyes. After that brief, shared message, the two boys scurried into the kitchen where their parents were casually conversing to beg for a magic practice session with their new wands.

James and Lily agreed; amusement evident on their faces as they led the boys into the room they had set up for training. Harry felt the same tingling feeling he always encountered entering this room and also whenever he was around a heavily magical area – it meant wards.

Not wanting the boys to blow the house up if they accidentally lost control of their magic, their parents had set wards up over the room so that any excess magic merely dissipated into the air.

Harry figured, since Evan and he each had their own wand, he, Harry, would have more time to practice his magic. Either his mum or dad could help Evan and the other could help him; there were two adults and two kids, it all balanced out.

The four of them got ready for their lesson, James and Lily at the front of the room with Harry and Evan standing side by side in the center of the room where they had lots of space to move around if they needed it.

"All right, now that you each have a wand for yourself, I'm going to show you how to duel," James said.

"First, you bow, like this," James demonstrated by leaning forward slightly and tilting his head.

Evan and Harry copied him, thinking it did not seem like much of a bow. Their confusion must have appeared on their faces as James chuckled and said, "If you're up against a Slytherin-"

Lily cleared her throat, loudly.

"Okay, er...If you're up against someone who is likely to cheat, you want to make sure they aren't going to throw a spell at you while you're leaning all the way over. That's why you only tilt a bit; make sure you never take your eyes off your opponent while you bow. And if you ever encounter a Death Eater, I can promise you, they won't even bother bowing; they'll come out fighting, wanting to take you by surprise."

The twins nodded at their father showing they understood what he was telling them.

"Next, is the stance; you want to get into your ready position, like this."

James turned sideways to them so all they could see was his right side. He was crouched down low to present as small a target as possible, and his legs were spread apart, knees bent. His arms were up and ready, the left one slightly back if needed to defend from a physical attack and the right one holding his wand was out at shoulder level, the tip of his wand pointing up.

Once the boys copied his stance, he moved on.

"Now, as you can see, I'm relaxed. My body's not tensed up. You want to stay calm and relaxed so you can move easier and so your blood circulates better and gets more oxygen."

"Um, James, don't you think that might be a _bit_ over their heads at this age?" Lily asked; her tone dubious.

"Eh," James shrugged as if it did not really matter, "they don't need to get it, really. They just need to do it."

"Yeah, because not having a clue _why _they're doing something will _really_ help them to know what they're doing in a duel."

James ignored her and continued on.

"So, next you want to keep your wand movements to a minimum. At Hogwarts they'll show you a bunch of fancy wand movements for simple things, but if you keep your movements from being really big and make them shorter, more sharp, you can get your spells out faster. And if you just continue the movement, you can make your spells flow out one right after the other; this creates a barrage, and it's very hard for your opponent to dodge."

"What's a bar-baredge, daddy?" Evan asked.

"I'll show you. _This_ is a bar_rage_!"

James aimed at the wall and cast three spells in quick succession.

"You see how I did that really quickly so those spells were really close together? That's how you make a barrage. And you can do the spells in different directions so your enemy can't get away, like this..."

James spelled at the wall again, only this time, his spells hit the wall in a horizontal line almost as each spell hit a second after the one before it from left to right.

"Woah!"

"Cool!"

Harry and Evan tried a barrage, aiming at the wall. Their stances were slightly off, and their spells came out a lot slower as they yelled their incantations and used clumsy wand motions. However, James thought that with some practice, they could both get it down.

"Well, that was good for your first try. Now, why don't you duel each other? I'm going to show you how to pace off; then, you're going to turn around and bow to your partner. Finally, I'll count to three and you two can go at it."

The boys cheered and eagerly followed their father's instructions, learning how to pace off and bow like he showed them. Then, they readied their stances and started shooting spells and sparks at each other after their dad counted to three. That lasted for almost three minutes before the boys started moving closer to each other, and finally just threw their wands on the ground and tackled each other to the floor where they ended up wrestling.

James and Lily sat back, watching the boys have fun and finally had to call a halt when things almost started getting mean.

"All right, all right, enough of that. Why don't you two pick up your wands and go back to your rooms for a little while. I'm sure your pets probably want you to play with them or something."

The twins agreed and everyone went their separate ways. Harry entered his room and sat down on his bed in front of his snake. Its shiny emerald scales shimmered in the sunlight as it turned its head to face Harry.

_§You look too sleepy to want to play with me right now,§_ Harry thought aloud.

_§You could say that.§_

Harry blinked, shocked for a moment before saying, _§Did you just speak to me?§_

_§Of course, who else would I be speaking to?§_

_§I don't know. I've never heard a snake talk before.§_

They continued their conversation for several minutes, but were interrupted by a shriek at Harry's door. Harry turned around; his mum was standing in the doorway, one hand held to her mouth as she stared at Harry in horror while the other held her wand steady as she aimed it at Harry.

"What's wrong, mummy?" Harry asked fearfully, standing up to face his mother.

Lily didn't answer; she just kept staring at him, unwilling to risk taking her eyes off him in case he attacked her it seemed like. Instead she ignored his query and called out, "JAMES!"

Harry's father ran up the stairs to find out what was wrong and found Lily's terrified gaze, as well as her wand, directed at their youngest son. James expression became incensed as he tried to pull her wand away from their son and cried, "Lily!"

"H-he...he was...speaking to that snake like Voldemort does, James! In Parseltongue! Quick, go call Albus! There might be something wrong with him!"

James' eyes widened at this proclamation and he hurried off to Floo call the Headmaster. He returned a moment later with Albus Dumbledore in tow. Lily explained what had happened, how she had walked into Harry's room to tell him it was time to eat, and heard him talking in that foul language.

"Could Voldemort have done something to him, Albus? It's only been two months; could he have placed some kind of delayed curse on him that is only now activating? Why is my son able to speak Parseltongue, Albus? Neither James or I have any history of Snake Speakers in our genealogy; he shouldn't be able to do that unless Voldemort did something to him!"

"Calm down, my dear. There are a number of reasonable explanations for Harry's ability. Besides, the language itself is not evil; there have simply been many dark wizards who have used the language for evil purposes. Please, just allow me to examine Harry."

After ascertaining that Lily was agreeable to the idea with a firm look over the top of his crescent spectacles, Dumbledore stepped over to Harry, taking the frightened boy's face in hand and drew Harry's gaze up to meet his own. Dumbledore peered into Harry's eyes, the twinkling aquamarine seeming to pierce Harry's soul as he looked up at the Professor. Dumbledore frowned after tearing his eyes away, and tapped Harry on the head a couple times with his wand to no effect.

Standing up with forcefully precise movements, Dumbledore told James to contact Minerva and have her come to the Potter's home.

"Why? What is it?"

"I'm afraid that, for the moment, Harry will require a guard at all times and I need to speak privately with you both."

James mouth was set in a tight grim line as he left the room to retrieve his former teacher.

By this point, Harry was so terrified of why his parents were acting funny that his emerald eyes began clouding with tears as he called, "Mummy?"

Lily looked at Albus in askance before turning back to Harry and saying, "It's all right, baby. Everything will be okay. Professor McGonagall is going to come and stay with you while Mummy and Daddy talk to the Headmaster."

Harry ignored this as he stepped towards his mother, seeking physical affirmation, but Lily quickly stepped away from him, her wand still aimed in Harry's direction. The Headmaster also tensed up and Harry began crying in earnest, stung by his mother's rejection.

They did not have long to wait before James came back, followed by Minerva McGonagall.

Stepping brusquely into the room, Minerva said, "James explained the situation to me, Albus. I'll watch Harry for you."

The Headmaster nodded to his Deputy Headmistress before shooing the two anxious parents out of the room and into the sitting room. After they had all taken their seats, Dumbledore began to speak.

"Now, what I'm about to tell you is not to go beyond this room, other than the ears of the Order; we especially cannot let Harry overhear any of this. The day after Voldemort vanished, Severus came to me and revealed his Mark. It is very faint, but it has not disappeared entirely like it should have if Voldemort were truly dead."

"What are you saying, Albus?"

"I'm saying that Voldemort is still alive, and since we were unable to capture any of his former Death Eaters, especially Bellatrix Lestrange, there is a very good chance that he will be restored to his body and his powers. All he is doing right now is bidding his time, waiting for the right moment to return."

Dumbledore sighed, bowing his head and hunching his shoulders as he said the next bit, "And I'm afraid that he is waiting in the body of your son."

"What?"

"What do you mean, Professor?"

"I believe that Voldemort is possessing Harry."

"But, Albus, couldn't it just be some latent spell that's just now ignited, or the Imperious Curse?"

"I searched, Lily. He's had no spells or dark curses cast on him. However, when I used Legilimency to search his mind, I found another presence within him. Voldemort was there with him, Lily; I'm sorry."

Both parents looked at each other, their horrified expressions turned to terror at the thought of what that could mean for their son.

"You both know the prophecy. We all knew that when Voldemort marked Evan that it was just the beginning. It's obvious from the way the prophecy speaks that the real battle comes after the Dark Lord's adversary has been marked. I believe that in order to prevent any of us, or even Evan from killing him, Voldemort has decided to use Harry's body to house his soul."

"But, he's right, Albus; there's no way I could kill my son, or even allow anyone else to do it! What are we going to do?"

"There is only one thing we can do," Dumbledore replied, his countenance downcast.

"What?"

"We must send Harry to live with Lily's sister."

"But, Albus! Petunia hates magic and so does that whale of a man she calls husband. There's no way I could send Harry to live with those people!"

"I'm afraid we must, Lily. If we send him to live with anyone in the Order, our problem will remain. Voldemort will simply continue to possess Harry if he thinks he can discern information on the Order's secrets. It's what's best for him. By sending him to the muggles, you will not only be protecting Evan and the Order, but Harry as well."

"How?"

"You both know that Voldemort once went by the name Tom Riddle. When he was a boy, he lived in a muggle orphanage after his mother died and his muggle father left him. I do not believe Voldemort would take kindly to being raised in a muggle environment once again. It is my guess that if we place Harry in Petunia's care, Voldemort will simply leave and find someone else; maybe even go back to his followers and try to regain his old body. But that means that once Harry is in Petunia's care, he must have no contact with anyone from the Order. If Voldemort believes there is a chance of anyone in the Order coming back to rescue him, I have no doubt that Tom will endure what he must to get a chance at Evan or the Order's secrets."

Lily and James were very quiet as they pondered Dumbledore's words.

"What about Petunia? What's to keep Voldemort from attacking the muggles while he's in Harry's body?"

"I will install specific blood protection wards that will keep both Harry and your sister's family safe. With these wards in place, Voldemort nor his followers should be unable to cast any harmful magic while Harry resides with Lily's blood."

"Why can't we just do that here? Then Harry can't hurt anyone?" James asked.

"That, I'm afraid, would simply treat the symptoms, but is not a true solution to the problem. And even then, Voldemort could use Harry to spy on the Order while in your care. No, I think the best thing we can do is to send Harry to live with Lily's family."

To reassure the couple, Dumbledore continued, "We will keep Harry with the muggles until it is time for him to attend Hogwarts. Once he comes to the school, I will scan Harry again for any signs of Voldemort's presence. If he's 'clean,' as the muggles say, he will be free to return to you. If not, we will gather the Order and decide what to do from there. I will construct the wards around the Dursleys' house to protect both them and Harry, and I will also post Arabella Figg to watch over the boy while he stays with the Dursley's. Since she is in the Order, she can keep an eye on him for us, but as she's a Squib, I doubt Voldemort knows of her."

James grimaced as if in pain as he asked, "Professor, isn't there _anything_ else we can do? I can't stand the thought of either of my boys staying with those-" James seemed to search for a word that could describe his wife's family, but lieu of any polite term to use, seemed to settle for "..._people_."

"I'm afraid not, my boy. I'm sure it will all work out in the end."

James' lips drew together in a tight line as he finally gave a sharp tilt of his head in acquiesces. Unable to bear the conversation any longer, James stood up and turned away from the Headmaster unable to look at the man anymore. Crossing the room to the fireplace, James rested his forearm against the mantle as he stared sourly into the flames.

Lily and Dumbledore watched him for a moment before the Headmaster said, "It is best that we take care of this right away so Harry is not forced to suffer Voldemort's presence any longer than necessary. It'll keep the two of you safer as well. You might consider going back under the Fidelius Charm once again to protect Evan."

"We'll think about it, Albus," Lily said diplomatically.

"If you decide you would like to, I offer my services as Secret Keeper for your family."

It was almost like another slap in the face for James, as if the Headmaster were saying, _Since you did such a bad job of choosing your _last _Secret Keeper_.Thus, they heard James from across the room as he muttered under his breath, "Part of my family, you mean."

Ignoring his ire, Dumbledore said, "I'll go get Harry and have him pack up his things."

"No thank you, Professor," James replied, turning around to face the others, his movements jerky in his anger, "I'll explain to Harry and help him pack"

Dumbledore showed no reaction to James' resentment other than to calmly retake his seat and say, "Very well. I will wait here for you to return."

James glared at the Headmaster and stormed off up the stairs to Harry's bedroom.

Lily turned back to Dumbledore, her eyes glittering with sadness and her expression forlorn as her shoulders slumped in resignation.

"Don't worry about James," she said softly, "He's always had a flash-point temper. He'll get over it quickly enough."

Dumbledore _hmmed_ thoughtfully, as he conjured the supplies he would need to write Petunia a letter, before saying, "I'm not so sure about that; at least, not this time, Lily. James has always been extremely protective of his family. You and your two boys are his proudest accomplishments. He has always sought to do everything he could to provide for all of you and he sees this, as well as what happened on Halloween, as failure on his part to provide you with safety. I know he has blamed himself for what happened to Evan and now with Harry...I just don't think James will be able to put this behind him, at least, not for a very long time.

"He might seem as though he's fine for your sake. He's the man of the house and he thinks he needs to be strong for his family, but inside he'll be hurting from the loss of not being able to fully protect Harry. Unfortunately, that's the way Voldemort works. He seeks to make people doubt themselves and their abilities. Even without really realizing that there are things worse than death, Voldemort has the ability to bring our greatest fears into reality so that life merely becomes a place where we are trapped in a world of suffering.

"Don't worry for me. I know James' intentions."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because, I feel the same way."

Lily opened her mouth to object that the fault was neither Dumbledore's nor James', but before she had time to utter a word, James came back with Harry perched on his hip, the little boy's emerald orbs glazed over in exhaustion from crying and his eyes red and puffy from his tears. Harry's overnight bag was slung over Minerva's shoulder as she walked behind James into the sitting room.

James set Harry on the floor and squeezed him tightly in a massive hug. When James finally sat back on his heels, with Harry's shoulders gripped in both hands, James said in an encouraging kind of voice, "Be good now, sport. You're going to go stay with your Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, all right?"

"How long, daddy?" Harry whined pitifully.

"I'm not sure, kiddo, but I promise it won't be forever."

James pulled Harry in for another hug as he whispered, "I promise" brokenly, over and over again. When James was able to draw himself away from his little boy once again, he surreptitiously wiped at his eyes, his face turned away so no one could see his tears of anguish.

Lily utilized this chance to offer Harry a tentative hug and peck on the cheek. He clung to her, hungrily, most likely remembering how she had backed away from him before, but with the thought that she was most likely hugging Voldemort, Lily was unable to maintain the embrace and pushed him away again, trying, and failing, to do it gently and not panic.

Harry promptly burst into tears once again at the rebuff.

Dumbledore, who had finished his letter and was watching the scene from the side so as not to intrude on the family moment, carefully took Harry's hand, led him gently outside, and Apparated away, the boy's shrunken bag tucked into a pocket after having taken it from McGonagall.

The arrived in a tidy little neighborhood with cutesy white picket fences, beautiful gardens full of colorful flowers, and children laughing as they played in the streets Harry was struck by the _sameness_ of everything around him as he gazed out at all the houses, yards, and cars that were all identical. While the houses may have been painted different colors (only in some cases), the structure of the house, porch, and walks leading up to the houses were all the same. The gardens had different flowers, but were all arranged in a similar fashion and while all the cars were different colors, they had matching models and were all waxed to shiny perfection.

The oddity of the sight was so intriguing that Harry halted his tears to look around in amazement. He didn't even notice the lack of attention the two wizards received, which was due to the Anti-Muggle Charm Dumbledore had placed around the two of them; instead Harry simply took in as much of his new surroundings as possible, swiveling his head in every direction as he clutched Dumbledore's wrinkled hand in his tiny fist.

Harry's curiosity grew the closer they came to Number 4 Privet Drive. What would his new guardians be like? How would they act around Harry? Would they like him?

Harry's entire body trembled with nervous anticipation as the two wizards walked toward the house. Dumbledore gave the door a smart rap with his knuckles and the door was almost immediately opened by a horsey-looking woman with a long neck. Her gaze turned dark as she realized wizards were standing on her doorstep.

"What do you want?" Petunia curtly inquired.

"A bit of your time, please, madam, and then I shall be out of your way," came Dumbledore's mild reply.

Petunia gave the wizard a haughty sniff, but stepped back out of the way and allowed the Headmaster to enter the abode.

Without even inviting the two to sit as they entered the sitting room, Petunia Dursley crossed her arms and started tapping her foot, insinuating that she had better things to do with her time than listen to wizards.

"I'm sure you have things to do, so I'll get right to the point," Dumbledore placated, taking a seat in a squishy chair at the edge of the room. "I'm afraid a situation has arisen that we need your help with," Dumbledore paused to let this sink in, but Petunia said not a word. Looking at the woman over his crescent moon spectacles, Dumbledore continued, "I know your sister has shared with you the details of the Dark Lord Voldemort, thus I shall not prolong my visit by reiterating what Lily has already told you. All you need to know is that the Dark Lord is back and after the Potter family once again. In order to keep everyone safe, we need you to take care of little Harry here," Dumbledore patted Harry's head for emphasis as he watched Petunia for her reaction.

"And just why would I want to raise my sister's ungrateful brat?"

"What?" roared Vernon from the hallway as he stalked into the room, just as Petunia began her sentence. Harry gazed at the new arrival in trepidation as mini-earthquakes shook the floor with the man's every step.

_Is he one of the giants Uncle Moony told me about?_ Harry wondered, his eyes widening at the size of the man.

"Ah, Vernon," greeted Dumbledore, smiling serenely up at the pair from his spot on the squishy chair. "I was just informing your lovely wife of your change in status."

"Change in status?" Vernon stupidly asked.

"Yes, your new status as Harry's guardians."

Vernon seemed too angry to speak as he turned first red and then purple while he tried to say, "But that's—We can't—"

He finally settled on, "I WILL NOT HAVE A FREAK IN MY HOUSE!"

Tears slipped silently down Harry's face at this pronouncement and the little boy pressed himself up against the Headmaster, seeing the man as his last refuge. Dumbledore looked down at the boy, smiling sadly as he smoothed down the boy's hair, regretful of what he knew the poor lad would have to endure at the hands of these despicable muggles.

"I'm afraid, sir," stated Dumbledore with his impeccable calm, "that you have no choice. You will take the boy in and raise him until he comes of age. It is necessary for the war effort, which I'm sure wish to contribute to, considering what you know of Voldemort, am I correct?"

Dumbledore's tone was calm as he stared at the couple over the tops of his glasses, but his body language almost screamed the threat such a man could present to the Muggle couple.

Petunia reluctantly nodded, seeing as her family apparently had no say in the matter.

"Good. Now, there shall be no interference and no contact from the Potters or the Order and he is not allowed to perform magic while in a Muggle sensitive environment."

Vernon seemed to cheer slightly at this news and Harry thought he detected a strange glint in the man's eye that sent a shiver of fear coursing through Harry, as he continued to cry into Dumbledore's side.

What did the Headmaster mean 'no contact?' His parents weren't just going to leave him here with these people, were they? His dad had promised that they would come back for him. And no magic? Harry used magic all the time at home! How was he going to survive without using magic for however long he was supposed to stay here?

"Very well," said Dumbledore rising to his feet, drawing a piece of parchment from his robes, and setting it on a table in the center of the room, "this is a letter explaining the situation more fully if you wish to read it, and the conditions of this guardianship. I'll leave Harry with you."

Once again someone else was abandoning Harry, and his silent tears turned into full-fledged sobbing. Dumbledore said no goodbye, he simply left Harry standing where he had left the boy as he strode out of the room and exited the house.

Petunia and Vernon watched the old man's departure and silently stared at the doorway for several seconds after the man had gone before Vernon attention was diverted to the boy crying in front of him.

Vernon viciously backhanded the boy, saying, "Stop crying; it's ruddy nonsense, I tell ya, and there'll be none of it from you while you're in my home, you got it, boy?"

Harry quickly tried to stifle his sobs as he placed one of his little hands on his sore cheek, his emerald eyes wide in fear of his new guardians. And thus began the torment of the little boy known as Harry Potter.


	3. The Dursley Family

**Title:** The Forsaken Twin

**Author:** Serafina Moon

**Date:** May 28, 2008-July 9, 2008

**Summary: **What if after that fateful Halloween night, the Potters thought young Harry was possessed by Voldemort to spy on Dumbledore's plans and the BWL? What if they sent him away and he became an assassin? It's his job to kill Dumbledore...Year 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, or themes. I will not profit from this story except receiving enjoyment of your questions, comments, and input on this work.

**Claimer:** I do, however, own this story and its plot and any Original Characters that I may use during the duration of the story making process.

**Warning:** Child abuse, graphic violence, implied neglect, etc.

**A/N:** Sorry for the long delay. I just couldn't get this chapter to turn out the way I wanted. I had to rewrite it 5 times and then edit it, in between working 2 jobs and real life...Well, here it is, _finally_.

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**Chapter 3: The Dursley Family**

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He was running.

The thuds of heavy footfalls echoed with resounding slaps as they slammed into the pavement. Harry dodged around the corner of a building, not daring to look back at his attackers. Looking back made you lose speed, and you couldn't see where you were going either. Besides, he knew what he would see if he looked back; Dudley, Dennis, Malcom, and Gordon would be pumping their legs as hard as they could to catch up with Harry, but Harry was fast and the four of them were most certainly falling behind. However, there was one member of Dudley's gang who was just as fast as Harry—Piers Polkiss. If little Harry wasn't able to get a head start, Piers would most likely catch up to Harry and find a way to slow him down until the others arrived.

Harry had been lucky this time, he was slightly ahead of Piers, but he knew the small boy would be able to catch up if Harry couldn't find a place to hide and soon.

Once again, Dudley and his little gang of hooligans were giving poor Harry a merry chase in the game of Harry Hunting; just like they had done almost everyday for the past three years, ever since Harry came to live with his relatives.

Harry Potter was a wispy-thin little boy with a pale complexion and striking green eyes, which were hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses that had been taped together in the middle. His clothes were far too large for his petite frame, just puddleing around him like some great raggedy tent that seemed to jump all on its own whenever the poor boy walked. His trainers were floppy and worn, the tops having almost completely separated from the bottoms after Dudley had tried them on at the store; apparently he was in denial about his size. Since the store policy required them to buy something if they broke it, his aunt had simply given the shoes to Harry to wear.

Harry's pale complexion came from his forced seclusion indoors, when he was made to complete his chores. He was only ever allowed outside to do lawn work after dark, when none of the neighbors would see him. His baggy clothes, which seemed even more so due to his small size, engulfed him because they were Dudley's old cast-offs that Harry's cousin had messed up or grown out of. And since "little Dudders" was roughly the size of a baby whale, Harry always appeared to swim in a perpetual sea of material. The extra material also conveniently covered any scars or bruises that Harry happened to sport at any particular time.

While most adults would contribute Harry's lean physique to the principle of a healthy, active child, it was actually due to malnutrition. Everyday Harry was given a list of chores accomplish by dinnertime; if he completed everything on the list and it passed his Uncle Vernon's inspection, Harry was allowed to eat; if not, Harry was denied his dinner. While normally, Harry would not suffer missing out on one or two meals if his Uncle did not like his work, Harry was actually missing out on several meals—daily.

On days when Harry did not have to attend school, he would begin the day with chores, without a break to eat, except a bit of toast and milk in the morning if he was lucky, and would continue working on his chores until supper. Thus, without having eaten much of anything for the entire day, Harry did his best to complete his chores perfectly so he could eat.

There were a few obstacles for Harry, however; the first was Dudley. Harry's big, blonde cousin loved to torment the boy which came mostly in the form of beating the smaller boy into a pulp. But occasionally, Dudley found it amusing to ruin whatever Harry was working on and get him in trouble with Dudley's father, Harry's Uncle Vernon.

The second obstacle was Vernon himself. The man was not pleased with Harry living in his home and was not satisfied with any of the work Harry did. Frequently, Uncle Vernon would pronounce Harry's work unsatisfactory without explanation or reason, just to see the look of sadness upon his nephew's face as he was denied food once again.

The final obstacle was usually due to one of two things. Either his list of chores was so long Harry could not complete it in time, or school prevented Harry from finishing everything.

Harry had long since found a way to obtain food, however; otherwise he would surely have already starved to death. The boy had learned at a very young age both how to use magic to escape his cupboard and how to pick locks so he could leave his small sanctuary at night and sneak food out of the kitchen so that he had enough to eat.

Harry was happy that at least when he attended school, he was able to eat both breakfast and lunch while he was there. So long as Dudley didn't take his money. School was almost like a sanctuary for Harry. It was a place he could go, where, for the most part, he didn't have to see his horrible relatives, since his guardians didn't attend and Dudley was always placed across the room from Harry as the teachers seated the students according to alphabetical order.

During free times, Harry would escape to the library to read, while Dudley would storm around the playground, terrorizing the younger children. Of course, Harry now knew better than to try and make any friends; he _had_ tried in the beginning when he had first come to school. He had been so excited to see other children his own age besides Dudley since the Dursleys could no longer prevent him from meeting other kids, but Dudley had ruined it for him, just like he ruined any work Harry attempted to get done.

Dudley would confront and beat up anyone who even _thought_ of becoming friends with Harry. Some had dared to try anyway, but all had suffered the consequences and ultimately decided that the small, bespectacled boy wasn't worth the effort. Everyone abandoned Harry eventually.

Attending primary school did end up having one happily surprising unforeseen consequence—it allowed Harry to see. When Harry had turned six, his eyesight began deteriorating so much that the poor boy could hardly make out the items on the lists of chores Vernon handed him each day. His first teacher apparently noticed Harry's trouble in seeing the blackboard and sent him to the school nurse.

The kind woman had identified Harry's problem as nearsightedness and given him a pair of prescription glasses so he could see before sending him back to class. Harry had been ecstatic with his new ability to see again and took ever opportunity to sneak into the school library to read. Of course, since he had no friends to speak of, it was rather easier than Harry would have liked.

Unfortunately, the library had been closed for the day, and Harry had been required to go out to the playground with everybody else. Dudley and his gang had spotted Harry right off and began giving chase. It was for this reason that Harry was frantically wracking his brain for his best nearby hiding spots.

As he rounded the corner of the school building, Harry noticed the school trashcans pushed up against the side of the building and made a leap for it, knowing that if the others rounded the corner and saw where he had hidden, all would be lost.

_I wish I could get away!_ Harry silently pleaded. His heart pounded inside his chest so loudly he was sure Piers and Dudley would find him even if he hid. _I wish I was somewhere safe!_

In a blink, the small boy found himself on the school rooftop. Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds and then opened them again, just to make sure that he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. Each time he opened his eyes, the vista was the same.

Harry walked over to the edge of the roof and looked down. Piers looked around in confusion while Dudley and the rest of the gang were just coming around the corner.

"Where'd he go?" they shouted at Piers, but he shrugged his shoulders and continued looking around.

"I don't know; he'd already gone by the time I got here," the smaller boy complained.

"Well, look around. He can't have gotten too far; he must be hiding around here somewhere."

The gang began searching all around the area, even behind the trash cans, which made Harry think such a hiding spot was not all that safe after all. After a few minutes of scrambling around, looking for Harry in different places, one of the boys looked up, back towards the playground.

Harry quickly stepped back from the edge of roof so he was not in the line-of-sight. The sudden movement seemed to draw the boy's attention and he called out to the others.

"Oi! There he is!" the boy, Malcom, pointed.

All the others spun around, looking where Malcom was pointing. None of the others could see Harry since he had already disappeared from view, but Malcom knew where he hid.

"Where?" Dudley asked.

"Up there! I saw him on the school roof just now!"

"What? How would he get up there?"

That brought up an excellent question Harry thought. How _did_ he get up there? Harry knew it had been magic, like he had used when he lived with his parents, but since no one else would believe or accept such an explanation, he would have to come up with something else.

_Well, let's see. What if I say I really wanted someplace safe to hide so I tried to jump behind one of the bins, but then I ended up here…Hm, maybe as I was jumping, a big gust of wind caught me and carried me up here. I know I don't weigh that much, after all._ Harry sighed; no one would believe that unlikely story, especially not Uncle Vernon.

With that explanation firmly decided upon, Harry tried to think of how he was going to get down. It was a long way to fall, and Harry didn't think he could count on another "random freak burst of wind" to catch him on his way down. It looked like his only way down would be with help, most likely _teacher help_. Resigning himself to the inevitable, Harry approached the edge of the roof again.

The other boys, who had been harassing Malcom for seeing things while Harry was lost in thought, all gasped at the sight of Harry on the rooftop. Dudley cackled gleefully when he finally figured out that he could get Harry in trouble with this.

"You might have gotten away from us, Potter," he called, "but you won't be able to get away from Mum and Dad when they hear about this one! I'm gonna tell a teacher on you, Potter! You're gonna be in _so much trouble_!"

He and his friends guffawed heartily as they strode away, seeking a teacher they could rat him out to.

Harry frowned, trying not to let panic overwhelm him. He _would_ be in a lot of trouble once Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia found out about this. The last time something strange like this had happened, like turning his teacher's hair blue, the consequences had been..._bad_.

Harry knew that his aunt and uncle believed him to be completely in control of his "special abilities," as they liked to call it—he wasn't allowed to say the word "magic" in their presence—but really, he only had a small amount of control over them consciously. The other times, when he felt strong emotions, the magic simply came on its own. Harry couldn't do anything about that, but the Dursleys didn't understand. Or maybe they just didn't want to.

Only a few minutes passed before one of the teachers approached the side of the school building that either Dudley or one of his friends had indicated. When she saw Harry standing at the edge, she called out to him.

"Harry, dear; just stay put, all right? I'm going to go get the janitor to come get you down. Stay right where you are; don't move, okay?"

"Okay," Harry replied.

And with that, Harry settled himself in to wait for someone to rescue him, while trying not to think about what his punishment would involve once he got home.

He _hated_ feeling helpless like this!

He couldn't get down, only had a minimal amount of control over his magic, his aunt and uncle were going to murder him, his parents had tossed him out like yesterday's rubbish, and he was too scrawny to defend himself from Dudley and his gang.

But not all of that was right, was it? His dad had promised Harry that he would come back for him. _He promised_. That was the only hope Harry had left to cling to. If he didn't have that, he'd probably go mad. He _had_ to keep believing that his father would eventually come back for Harry.

But what was taking so long? Had he finally been convinced that Harry wasn't worth the effort after all? Could his dad not bear to take Harry back after experiencing the freedom of living without him for three years?

_No! He will come back for me! He _will_! He has to..._

Harry started when he heard a loud scraping noise behind him and turned to see what made the sound.arHHHH There was nothing there; at least, nothing he could see. The scrapping persisted and Harry cautiously made his way over the side of the building where the sound originated from.

Looking over the side, he saw a ladder being hoisted up along the side wall, held by the school custodian and the teacher he had seen earlier. Once they had the ladder positioned correctly, the janitor began making his way up the rungs while the teacher held it steady.

When the man finally reached the top, Harry was a ball of nerves. Of course he wanted to get down from the roof, but the prospect of being on the ground, with all that it entailed, left him chilled.

"You okay, kid?" the man asked, his deep voice tinted with annoyance.

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered soothingly; he didn't need more people mad at him than he had to.

"All right, I'm going to go down the ladder first to make sure you don't slip, and to keep you from falling if you do. You're going to follow right after me, got it?" the man gave him a sharp glare, but Harry's emphatic head nodding seemed to convince him that the man had made his point and he allowed his expression to relax a bit.

The two of them started down the ladder, their footsteps making a metallic clang with each foot placement. The caretaker allowed Harry to take his time coming down the ladder, not forcing him to rush lest Harry get into a rush and fall. It as a good thing, Harry thought, as he was trembling so much with dread that he wondered if he might not just fall anyway, despite his slow pace and deliberate movements.

Harry's foot jolted as it touched the ground, flat footed. He had expected another ladder rung as his fear had overwhelmed him and made his steps mechanical, while his mind wandered off to contemplate, _once again,_ his punishment.

Now that both custodian and his charge were safely on the ground, Harry's teacher helped the man keep the ladder steady as he collapsed the top half, making it easier to put in storage.

"Thanks for your help," she said, giving him a small wave before taking Harry's hand in her own and leading him into the school, while the janitor hoisted the ladder sideways onto his shoulder to put it away.

Despite her friendly departure from the custodian, Mrs. Kingston turned to Harry with a stern expression as she said, "I'm going to have to take you to the Headmaster, Harry. You should know better than to be climbing school buildings and playing on the roof! You could have been seriously hurt! What were you doing up there anyway?"

Harry thought it a good thing that his teacher believed he had climbed the building. It was better than his explanation anyway. Dudley must have told her that Harry had somehow climbed up there to get him in trouble; and as much as Harry wanted to protest and declare his innocence, he should probably stick with this reason for getting on the roof instead of his own. Uncle Vernon would be furious if anyone suspected Harry of using magic.

"I was trying to get away from Dudley and his friends. They were chasing me, and I needed somewhere to hide where they couldn't get me."

Harry wasn't allowed to spread "nasty lies" about his perfect cousin Dudley, and he knew that telling the truth of certain matters made no difference other to secure him into further trouble. If he had learned anything over his tenure with the Dursleys, it was that you couldn't depend on adults and that no one should be trusted. The only person Harry knew he could trust and depend on was himself.

"Ah, well, Harry, I have to tell you that the Headmaster is _not_ going to be happy with you for disobeying the rules just to play tag with your cousin and his friends."

Harry winced at the misinterpretation of what he confessed, but luckily the teacher was pushing open the door to the Headmaster's office and she didn't notice.

"Here he is, sir. We were able to get him down safely," His teacher said as she entered the room, ushering Harry in ahead of her with a hand on his shoulder.

She led Harry over to a comfortably padded chair in front of the Headmaster's desk and had him sit. He stayed perfectly still and quiet, not fidgeting, just as he habitually did at home to keep from being noticed. Harry had a lot of practice pretending not to exist while he stayed at the Dursley home, either to keep his relatives from noticing him or because of his relatives' instructions whenever company came over.

"Very good," Mr. Farson said, his tenor voice rather thin and reedy. "I have already informed his guardians of the situation and they are on their way over."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Potter has described his point of view to me and indicated that he climbed to the roof to hide from his cousin and friends in a game of Hide-and-Seek or something similar. Now, if that is all, sir, I'll leave him to you, shall I?"

"You may."

The Headmaster, Mr. Farson, was a tall wispy thin man, with a small, pointed nose, beady eyes, and black hair, which he kept slicked back. He remained silent for several moments while Mr. Farson contemplated the young boy in front of him, but Harry held perfectly still. He didn't know it, but his discipline to be as quiet, still, and unobtrusive as possible actually garnered him more attention than if he had fidgeted like most students would. As it was, Mr. Farson could almost characterize the boy's stance, along with his unblinking stare, as wary.

_Well, he has good reason to be wary_, Mr. Farson thought, _he is in big trouble and apparently knows it. We have regulations in place for a reason. His flaunting of the rules caused him to seriously jeopardize his safety!_

Once the Headmaster believed Harry had reached the peak of his anxiety from waiting in silence, he said, "I hope it was worth it, Mr. Potter."

The Headmaster allowed for a dramatic pause before he continued, "I hope your bit of fun with your cousin and friends was worth getting suspended from school for a week.

"Your reckless behavior put not only your life at risk, but it was also a potential danger to others. The safety of our students is of utmost importance to us. Thus, you must suffer the consequences of your actions. This will teach you to obey the precautions put in place to keep this establishment running smoothly."

Harry was too busy trying to control his reactions to ponder the irony of such statements. As it was, he couldn't have stopped his eyes from widening and his expression from becoming alarmed after hearing what his punishment entailed. Luckily, Mr. Farson had started shuffling papers around on his desk and didn't notice how Harry's breath was coming in sharp, searing gasps. He panted, trying to draw in enough air. It seemed like he was trying to breathe through a straw. Harry knew he was hyperventilating due to the rising fear. How much damage could his uncle do to him if he didn't have to return to school for a week?

His Uncle Vernon loved to use corporal punishment on Harry, but he was always careful to strike Harry where it would not leave marks visible to others. With a whole week to recover, his uncle would not hold back, most likely. Due to his previous life with his parents, Harry knew that his uncle's treatment of him was wrong, knew that it amounted to physical abuse and neglect, but his uncle covered his tracks. Whenever Harry tried to tell someone, the information only disappeared and Harry's punishments dissuaded him from confiding in anyone else.

Harry began trembling in his seat, and despite the level of control and restraint he'd used to coerce his facial expression into a blank mask of stoicism, he could not suppress the tremors that coursed through his body. Harry willed his body to relax to stop shivering with a chill of dread, but his muscles had seized up and would not obey him; his limbs continued shaking.

If Mr. Farson noticed the physical manifestations of Harry's fear, he gave no indication. He simply continued to sit sternly in his comfortable, high-backed chair and studied Harry from his position across the desk.

I didn't take long to figure out what the Headmaster was waiting for as the man's secretary gave the door a sharp rap of the knuckles, poked her head in, and said, "They're here, Headmaster."

The man nodded to show he'd heard and said, "Please show them in."

Even though Harry knew who it had to be, he was still startled by the sight of the Dursleys as they crowded the doorway. The Headmaster waved his hand, indicating that Vernon and Petunia Dursley should enter the room and each take a seat.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," the Headmaster tipped his head to the couple, "Welcome."

Uncle Vernon's face was already purple and Aunt Petunia's lips were pursed into a thin, nearly invisible, line, which did not bode well for little Harry Potter. Harry figured the only reasons Uncle Vernon hadn't already exploded were because the Headmaster was present and he might not yet have heard the entire story. Granted the story was a complete fabrication, but none of it would matter. Either way he looked at it, Harry was in serious trouble.

"Now, Mr. Dursley, as I told you over the phone, there was an incident with your nephew, which has now been resolved, that we need to discuss. According to your son, he and his friends were playing a game of Hide-and-Seek with young Harry here, but when they went looking for him, they found Harry on the roof of the school.

"Apparently, he climbed the school building so he could hide on the roof, but found once he got up there that he could not get back down. He was then retrieved from the top of the building by the caretaker after your son alerted one of the teachers to the situation. As Harry's conduct has violated the safety code, we saw fit to issue him a five day suspension from school."

Harry watched his uncle, trying to gauge his temperament. While his punishment would no doubt be bad either way, it would be far worse if the man believed he had accomplished such a feat with magic as opposed to the man believing Harry had scaled the building naturally.

With a forced calm expression, his uncle merely said, "I see." After giving the Headmaster a sickeningly sweet smile, he continued. "Well, I'm sorry for the trouble our nephew caused you; he's a regular delinquent at home as well. I'll be sure to punish him as well so he will be disinclined to continue such behavior. Thank you for your patience in this matter. If you don't mind we will be going now. We'll take our nephew with us so that his punishment can commence immediately."

Harry may have been unable to contain his shakes before, but at this pronouncement, he completely froze. While his uncle's calm demeanor didn't belie his true feelings, Harry instinctively knew by the words "disinclined to continue such behavior" that his uncle knew magic had been involved and would punish him accordingly.

When Vernon stood up, Harry instinctively stood up as well, not wanting to remain in such a vulnerable position. Standing allowed for greater mobility should his uncle come after him, and Harry intended to fully utilize that if it proved necessary.

Harry's uncle waved him over to stand beside Vernon and Petunia, but while Harry approached them, he made sure to stay far enough away that the man couldn't grab him. Consciously, Harry knew that Vernon would maintain appearances in front of others, but Harry's body reacted instinctively to Vernon's anger.

The Headmaster shook Vernon's hand and the three of them left, picking Dudley up early from his class so they could go home.

Vernon remained quiet the entire car ride home; only Aunt Petunia and Dudley conversed as Harry's aunt fussed over his cousin

Once they pulled into the drive, Vernon instructed Harry wait for him in the shed. Harry shuddered, knowing he was only sent to the outdoor shed when he was punished with such violence that it had to be kept away from his aunt and cousin's eyes. Although, Harry thought that Dudley would probably want to join in if his father gave him a chance.

Harry waited until his cousin trailed into the house after his aunt before reluctantly heading for the shed, knowing things would only get worse if he attempted to run.

The shed door slammed closed with an ominous thud as Vernon closed out the rest of the world before rounding on his helpless nephew.

Grabbing Harry's shoulder and turning the boy to face him, Vernon said, "Boy, I have put up with you and your nonsense for 3 years now, and I will _not_ tolerate it any longer."

"But, Uncle-" Harry tried to protest.

Vernon punched him in the face, his meaty fist connecting with Harry's cheek as he continued yelling, "Don't even _think_ about lying to me, boy! I know your unnaturalness is involved! There is no way you could have gotten onto that roof otherwise!"

Harry flinched away from the onslaught of his uncle's rage as the man took a step toward his nephew. Harry's face throbbed where his uncle had struck him and despite knowing more trouble would come from trying to flee, he couldn't stop himself from backing away as the man approached him.

"Boy!" Vernon warned, his tone threatening.

A tremor of fear coursed up Harry's spine as his back rammed up against the wall. There was nowhere left to run.

"Come here, freak!" Vernon ordered, and Harry shuddered at the menace in his voice.

_Move!_ Harry commanded his body, and while his legs trembled so badly they almost didn't support him, he could not force himself to move closer to his tormentor.

_Obey him!_ His mind shouted at his unresponsive body. _Do what he says before he decides to come get you himself!_

His body seemed to wake up at that and he took a couple hesitant steps, only to falter and come to a complete halt still a few paces away from his uncle.

At the blatant disobedience, the man lunged toward Harry with a roar, one of his hands pinning the boy to the wall by his throat as the other hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. And that was when the hand wrapped around his neck began squeezing, suffocating the life from the petite boy dangling within its grasp.

Harry fought as his lungs failed to draw air. His legs kicked against the pudgy man as his small hands unsuccessfully tried to pry off the hand blocking his airway.

Just when Harry's vision began to tunnel into a black void and his struggles ceased, Vernon dropped him to the ground, where Harry lay gasping and coughing for breath.

When Harry's breathing steadied, he opened his eyes, briefly wondering when he'd closed them, before the image of his uncle looming over him drove every other thought to the back of his mind.

"Get up, boy!" Vernon shouted; Harry scrambled to obey, not wanting to incur the man's wrath further.

_It probably doesn't matter at this point_, Harry thought despondently a moment later, as his uncle attacked him again, hammering fist and foot both into Harry's fragile body. Harry bit his lip, drawing blood as he tried to keep from screaming. He was unable to hold back, however, when one of his uncle's blows both cracked something within him with an audible snap – most likely a rib – and sent him sprawling against some machinery that Vernon kept in the shed for work. Throwing his hands out to catch himself, Harry landed palm up on a drill bit that have been lodged in a piece of wood. It was driven like a spike through his hand as all of Harry's weight landed on his hands from the fall.

Harry screamed in agony as his hand and chest burned with a living fire of pain. Harry remained writhing on the floor, trying to suppress his sobs after extracting the protruding bit from his flesh, when a heavy foot pressed against Harry's back, pushing him into the floor, face first. Harry hadn't noticed while in such pain that his uncle was ready to move on to the next part of their "session" and had already taken off his belt.

Once confident that the boy would stay on the floor, Vernon ordered Harry to take his shirt off. It wouldn't do for Petunia to see the rips and tears in the shirt his belt would produce if Harry kept it on, so he made the boy take it off.

Pale skin covered in thick, crisscrossing scars was revealed as Harry obeyed his uncle, tossing Dudley's hand-me-down cast-offs into a corner of the room. As soon as the shirt was removed, Vernon brought the buckle-side of the belt down to bear upon Harry's back, and Harry was forced, once again, to hold in his screams.

The buckle produced wet smacks and thuds as it pounded against the flesh and bone of Harry's back, but the prongs cut into the pale tissue, ripping the skin apart, as Vernon drug the buckle across Harry's back.

Over and over, Harry forced himself not to cry out as each strike added another laceration to the collection on Harry's shivering form, which would later scar like the others.

After only a few minutes of effort on Vernon's part, Harry's back had become a bloody mess. Crimson stains littered the floor all around Harry as blood ran down his sides.

When Vernon finally tired of his workout, and his labored breaths came in heavy and sharp, he wiped the blood off his belt and onto Harry's discarded shirt.

"Now, boy, I hope you've learned your lesson, or we'll have to repeat this again tomorrow night as well."

Harry knew that Vernon would find some reason to torture him the next night whether he did anything to merit it or not.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry whispered.

"You will learn your place in this family, boy, or you'll be tossed out onto the streets. Is this the gratitude we get after providing you with food to eat, clothes to wear, and a place to stay? We could have just as easily turned you out of the house or left you at an orphanage after your worthless parents dumped you on us.

"They abandoned you here, leaving us hardworking people to care for a freak like you. They couldn't be bothered with you. You were a burden on them like you are to us! No wonder they deserted you. And now that they see how much better off they are without you, they aren't going to come back for you either."

"B-but my dad promised he'd come back!" Harry cried, shakily rising to his feet.

Vernon raised a fist at Harry's disrespect, but at the boy's obvious flinch, he lowered it.

"Don't take that tone with me! Of course they aren't coming back for you! Who'd want a freak like you anyway? Besides, if they were coming, why haven't they come by now? They don't even come to see you. Where are they? Hm?"

Harry dropped his gaze to the floor as the truth of his uncle's words hit him. Harry had wondered these exact same things as every birthday and Christmas went by and he was ignored by not just the Dursleys, but his real family as well.

Maybe he really was a worthless freak that his parents simply didn't want to deal with anymore. In fact, pain from his mother's rejection still lingered within his heart, buried deep down where Harry tried not to think of it. But no matter how he looked at things, he was still here with the Dursleys, getting beaten by Dudley and his gang and suffering the abuse of his uncle's punishments daily. The injustice of the entire situation struck him, and Harry felt a lump begin forming in his throat.

Harry swallowed it down, pushing away his emotions as Vernon continued his tirade; "...No, they left you here and aren't coming back no matter what they promised you. They probably just wanted to make sure they could shut up your whining and get you off their hands without a fuss. Now, get yourself cleaned up and get in the house! Don't let the neighbors see you or there'll be trouble! You're going to be locked in your cupboard without any meals until I say so, got it?" Vernon said, sharply spearing Harry with a glare.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," said Harry despairingly, lugging his body toward his shirt, hissing in pain when he put it on as he jarred his hand, stretched the injuries on his back, and pulled at his broken rib. His breath hitched as a searing pain jolted his sternum, caught in his throat at each movement with a least one of his ribs broken.

Vernon pulled his jacket over his shirt to hide the blood he'd accumulated on his person from delivering the beating, and then walked calmly out of the shed without once glancing back.

It was a good thing Harry did all the laundry, he thought, otherwise the entire purpose of coming to the shed for punishments to keep his aunt and cousin unaware would be a moot point.

Thinking about all he'd endured at the hands of this family caused Harry to feel a prickling sensation in his eyes as tears threatened to fall. Anger rose up in Harry at the feeling.

Blast it all! He hadn't cried once at the Dursleys' since the day he'd been brought here by Dumbledore! After that first day, he'd never allowed himself to become so weak as to cry.

Harry became infuriated with himself at the breach and began mentally raging against the one responsible for finally causing him to break down.

_I hate you, Uncle Vernon! One day I'll show you! I hate you. I hate you! I HATE YOU!_

Harry then turned his anger on his parents and Dumbledore for forsaking him, for leaving him at this devil-infested house.

_That's it!_ Harry fumed, _If my parents don't care about me anymore, then I don't care about them either! And since nobody wants me around, I'll just leave! Who cares about them anyway? I hate them! I hate everybody!_

Harry hardened his heart, vowing not to let anyone else get close enough to hurt him in such a way ever again.

With a new resolution, Harry cleaned all the bloodstains from the shed and entered the house, allowing Vernon to lock him in the cupboard. Promising himself that he would get revenge one day, Harry waited for night to fall by occupying himself with his plans to escape and by directing his burgeoning magic to heal his wounds.

Musing that Vernon had threatened to no longer provide food, clothing, and shelter, Harry realized that depending on others for such things was a weakness, and one he could ill afford. Harry knew he could no longer allow others to use such essentials against him. He needed to become independent and learn how to take care of himself so that he wouldn't have to rely on anyone else. After all, who can you trust except yourself?

_I never want to owe anyone anything!_

When the Dursleys all retired for the night, Harry was finally able to implement his getaway, and started by carefully picking the lock on his cupboard. Using his one good hand and a wire he'd scavenged for just such a purpose, Harry prodded the lock with a wire, which he had poked through the slits in the door.

When he heard the latch click into place, Harry carefully pushed the door open, hobbling painfully into the hallway, not yet fully healed. Unfortunately, his healing magic only sped up his body's natural processes and thus worked somewhat slowly. He knew he would be completely healed within the next two days despite his severe injuries.

After pilfering food from the kitchen and money from his aunt and uncle's bedroom, Harry stashed everything he had—food, blankets, money, clothes—into his school bag and exited the house. He left everything he had previously known behind—family, possessions, every association that tied him to others—without looking back.

It was all about survival now.


	4. On the Streets

**Title:** The Forsaken Twin

**Author:** Serafina Moon

**Date: **July 12**-**August 13, 2008

**Summary: **What if after that fateful Halloween night, the Potters thought young Harry was possessed by Voldemort to spy on Dumbledore's plans and the BWL? What if they sent him away and he became an assassin? It's his job to kill Dumbledore...Year 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, any of its characters, or themes. I will not profit from this story except receiving enjoyment of your questions, comments, and input on this work.

**Claimer:** I do, however, own this story and its plot and any Original Characters that I may use during the duration of the story making process.

**Warning:** Graphic violence

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**Chapter 3: On the Streets**

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It have been several months since Harry had run away from his relatives' house, and despite the numerous hardships he faced living on the streets on his own, he had never regretted his decision to leave. At least on the streets he could fight back if anyone accosted him, which they did often, seeing as Harry always seemed to obtain more of the basic necessities than many of the other poor beggars. Not only because his magic protected him from most threats and helped him attain anything he needed, but also because he had added to his list of skills.

Living on the streets had taught Harry more than he had every learned in school. He could now pick most basic locks, which helped with not only entering houses on cold, rainy nights, but also added to his small stash of money, which came more from picking pockets than picking locks. Although, he did find the occasional lock box...

He was able to stealthily sneak his way into restaurants to steal food when he was hungry, making sure to always keep a wary eye on his surroundings. He had learned from the very first that constant vigilance was needed to survive Beggar's London. And when constant vigilance wasn't enough and trouble managed to find Harry, which it frequently did, Harry was forced to utilize the talent he was most proud of his progression in—fighting.

Harry had managed to "pick up" a knife from one of the restaurants, and he used it as well as his small proficiency in hand-to-hand combat, which he had picked up in street fighting, to drive off most opponents.

Granted, most adults didn't bother him; he was too shrimpy to really have anything they wanted in the way of clothes, or rather _rags_. But occasionally, if Harry hadn't hidden his stashes of food or money well enough, they would come after him and he would lose it all. Then he was forced to start scavenging all over again. However, most other kids and teenagers, unless they were part of a gang, were unable to beat him single-handedly.

Unfortunately, Harry had experienced some trouble the day before when a gang of teenagers had found Harry's hideout as he had been coming back from picking pockets. He had been forced to abandon his spot and everything in it to avoid a fight he would most certainly have lost. Now, once again, he had no food and virtually no money to speak of. And to top everything off, because Harry's life was dictated by Murphy's Law, he was also in a fight.

While looking for a new place to stay, Harry had stumbled into someone else's territory, and, as was the way of such things, he had been challenged. Harry's opponent was bigger and stronger, but Harry knew how to use an attacker's strength against them. Harry was fast and agile, which came from his smaller size, but he still lacked the experience held by this older opponent. However, Harry was smart and able to adapt to new situations; not only that, but he had also picked up a few tricks from other street fights. Harry knew how to play dirty, but even with his uniquely fluid fighting style, Harry found himself matched by this older, stronger adversary.

Something was going to have to give if either had any chance of beating the other. As it was now, the fight would end with whoever tired first. Harry knew his limits and he knew he could continue an intense fight for a few more minutes, but the guy he was up against looked fit as well. Who knew how long he could keep fighting?

Knowing that this fight couldn't gain him anything, Harry began looking for an escape. Since Harry did not have a stake in the fight, other than his own life—he didn't want possession of the guy's territory after all—he knew it would not matter if he simply found a way out and took it. That was something else he had learned: pick your battles wisely. If you didn't have to fight, that energy could be better spent doing something else more necessary for survival; why waste it?

However, while Harry was distracted with trying to find an opening, his opponent found a hole in Harry's defenses and struck, slashing Harry's knife arm open almost from elbow to wrist before Harry could twist away. Harry gave no sign of pain, not wanting to be distracted again.

Victims usually let down their defenses after they were struck with a blow because the pain made them try to comfort the injury. Attackers took advantage of this weakness to get ahead of the opposition. Harry, however, had plenty of practice ignoring pain, even before living on the streets, and he did not let the strike affect him.

When the older boy tried to press his advantage and lunge toward Harry's "exposed" left side, Harry side stepped around the knife thrust and struck the boy's side, under his guard, with lightning fast reflexes and jumped clear.

Unfortunately, with the maneuver came a change in position and Harry was now trapped between an alley wall and the knife wielder in front of him. Where before Harry cold have easily escaped with a simple distraction, he couldn't just turn his back on his enemy after all, now he would have to fight his way out, and he was finally starting to tire.

Just then, a small boy, who looked to be a few years younger than Harry, came pelting down the alleyway. He paid no attention to where he was going because he was too busy glancing behind him. Harry saw why when a man dressed in a business suit came following right on the boy's heels. Apparently the boy had picked the man's pocket but had been caught, and now the man was trying to reclaim his stolen property.

Faster than Harry really had any time to discern what was happening, the boy had run into Harry's attacker and both were knocked to the ground. Not wanting to draw the little kid into his own problems, Harry pulled the boy off his opponent by the jacket and soon the two of them were racing out of the alleyway, leaving the businessman to deal with the annoyed beggar.

When they were finally a safe distance away, both leaned up against the wall of a building, panting. When both had finally caught their breath, Harry realized his wound from the fight was bleeding, and he wrapped it up using a strip torn from his baggy shirt hem. Once he had hidden it from prying eyes, he healed it using magic and then started to walk away, intent on finding a new place to stay before dark.

"Wait!" the boy called, halting Harry's retreat.

Harry stopped, turning to look at the street rat curiously. Once certain that Harry would stay and listen to him, the boy continued, "Where are you going? Can I stay with you?"

"I don't have anywhere to go; why would you want to come with me?" Harry asked curtly.

"Erm...well, I just thought it would probably be easier...and, um, safer if we stayed together."

The maxim, _trust no one_, hovered in Harry's thoughts, but his sense of honor wouldn't allow him to just leave this kid when he'd asked for help, especially after the kid had just helped him. Besides, he hated owing anyone.

"I know a place we can stay; I just need help getting food and stuff," the kid blurted, thinking Harry wasn't going to help him when he remained silent for several minutes, debating with himself.

Harry sighed in resignation, knowing that despite his experiences with trusting people, there was still a part of him that would always be a guardian looking out for the best interests of the innocent.

"Very well, lead the way," Harry said, gesturing for the boy to precede him.

"The name's Cricket, by the way," the boy said conversationally, as he started winding his way through the city.

"Harry," replied Harry brusquely.

Cricket glanced back at Harry inquiringly, "That's not your real name, is it?"

"Yeah; why?"

"Well, what happens if you tick someone off? If they know your name, they can ask around and find out where you're stay'n. It's better to just come up with something new every once in awhile so no one knows who you really are. Oh, and if you've run away from somewhere, the cops can't figure out who you are if anyone comes look'n."

Had Cricket's voice gone just the slightest bit higher pitched at the end? Harry shook his head thinking, _No one's going to be looking for me. If they were coming, they would have come by now._

Bitterness surged up in Harry as he recalled his past. Knowing it was too late to change what had happened, Harry dispelled the memory by focusing on the present and his new...acquaintance? Harry wasn't ready to trust the boy enough to call him a friend, but he did owe the kid for helping him out.

When Harry fled the Dursleys', he had vowed to never find himself indebted to anyone lest they take advantage of him. So, he decided that the only way to keep that from happening was to pay people back on his own terms instead of theirs.

If that meant letting this little kid follow him around for a while and share his food, then so be it. Besides, he said he knew a good place to stay...

Cricket eventually led them both to an abandoned old warehouse. It was boarded up, but the two small boys were able to find an easy way inside through a crack between two of the boards.

The inside of the run-down building was not in any better condition than the rest of it. The air was dry and stale, and the faint light that filtered in through cracks in boarded up windows didn't give much illumination, especially to the shadowy corners, which Harry thought was just perfect. If the situation required it, he could hide in plain sight without anyone noticing, unless they had a flashlight. But chances were that no one besides the homeless would dare try to enter the building, and _they_ were not likely to have a working light.

The floors were covered in greasy, oily grime and half-disintegrated cardboard boxes, which were scattered all over. Harry vaguely thought that they would provide some warmth for the night. At least, it would have to be enough; Harry didn't have anything else thanks to the gang that had discovered his last hideout.

After scouting out the area a bit, they managed to find a trapdoor leading down to the cellar. It looked about the same as the floor above it, except there was less room and the boxes were in better condition.

Dragging a few of the empty boxes into separate corners, Cricket and Harry began breaking them down into usable sheets, and started constructing as comfortable a bedding as they could manage.

Once they were settled for the night, Cricket startled Harry by asking, "So, you thought of a new name yet?"

Harry frowned, not having even thought about it since Cricket had last mentioned it. It _was_ a good idea to never use his real name; Harry could clearly see the advantages to it, but what should his name be?

Blurting out the first thing he thought of, Harry said, "Snitch; my name is Snitch."

"Hm…that one's pretty good. It'll keep people away too if they think you're gonna snitch on them." Cricket paused, considering for a moment before saying, "Either that or they'll wanna beat you up."

Harry just shrugged; he didn't really care what anyone else thought of it. It was just a name, nothing too important. After all, Harry had no use for names now, no need for an identity when that had been ripped from him just as much as his family had been. No, Harry had no use for names other than to keep people from discovering who he really was.

Thinking it would probably be better to have a few names on hand just in case he had to abandon that one in a hurry, Harry tried to come up with some, both street names like "Cricket" or "Snitch" and real names like "Harry Potter" and "Vernon Dursley."

Once he had enough fake names to satisfy his survival instincts, Harry said, "Well, let's get to sleep. We're going to need to get a lot done tomorrow if you plan on eating anything and we'll need to get an early start."

Harry heard a slight rustling from Cricket's corner as the other boy settled down, and then all was silent so that Harry had only his thoughts to keep him company.

His nickname, Snitch, came not from the term that meant "to tell on others" as Cricket had thought, but rather, it was the name of Harry's favorite winged ball in the Wizard's game of Quidditch. The game he used to play with his father and twin brother.

"You promised," Harry whispered bitterly into the darkness; his resentment towards his family and the Headmaster emerging with the torrent of memories. Harry reserved a special hatred for Dumbledore in particular, as the Professor had been the one to convince Harry's family to leave Harry with the Dursleys, or so his father had said. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I don't want you to go, but Dumbledore says it's for your own good," his father had told him when James had entered his room to explain that Harry would be sent to live with his relatives.

Harry's thoughts were plagued with events of the past and when he finally managed to fall into a restless sleep, his dreams were haunted by his worst memories.

When Harry woke in the morning, he felt as though he hadn't slept at all, he was still so tired. It seemed as if he had done nothing but toss and turn in his makeshift bed all night. Dark bruises stained the undersides of his eyes and his body had a slow reaction time, his muscles rigid and fatigued.

_Not good if I get into a fight_, Harry dully noted, stretching and sitting up.

While warming up his stiff muscles, Harry contemplated the tasks they would be required to complete for the day in order to survive. With two of them working together, an unforeseen bonus Harry had not at first realized, they could get more done in half the time. Of course, that was only _if_ either boy had any luck with their assignments however.

Then again, Harry did not know why the kid was following him around in the first place. If the boy thought Harry was going to take care of him and give him free food, then Cricket had another thing coming.

_In fact_, thought Harry, _I should make him in charge of getting our food. I'll deal with getting us money to buy some things we'll need for winter. Besides, he's younger; people always give better hand outs to younger kids who are begging. And judging from yesterday's escapade, he's not a very good pick-pocket either._

"Hey, Cricket!" Harry called to the still slumbering boy in the far corner. "Cricket, wake up!" Harry repeated louder when the boy refused to wake.

Cricket finally managed to crack one eye open, which he used to stare lackadaisically at Harry, asking, "Wha's all the yelling fer?"

"It's time to get up; we have a lot we need to get done today unless you'd rather starve."

Cricket sighed, stretching his arms above his head as he yawned widely and grumbled, "All right, all right; I'm getting up."

Harry nodded his head at the pronouncement before asking, "So, how long have you been on the streets?"

Cricket, having sat up, ducked his head, blushing as he replied, "Uh...er...well, only a couple days. Why?"

The last was said defensively, as Cricket's body stiffened, his head coming up to look Harry directly in the eye.

"Let's just say it answers a few questions." It explained why he'd been caught picking that man's pocket; that had probably been his first time, but it also made him curious to some inconsistencies he'd noticed in the boy's behavior...He talked like a street rat, but by his actions he seemed inexperienced. Harry wondered at that, and decided to probe in that direction by asking, "So, what made you realize that you should change your name?"

He had been curious since the boy mentioned it, surprised that someone with virtually no street smart could come up with such a thing before Harry did.

"Oh, everyone knows that you can't keep your real name once you start living on the streets," Cricket said, waving a dismissive hand as if it didn't matter.

"Everyone?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Cricket replied, climbing to his feet and leaning casually against the wall as he gazed at Harry circumspectly. While his stance looked relaxed, Harry was able to identify by the way his muscles had tensed that the boy had become anxious when Harry asked about his past. It was a sensitive topic then, but that was usually the case if you were living on the streets.

"I ran away from an orphanage," the boy finally admitted as Harry stared him down. "All the older kids have run away to live on the streets at least once and they always give the younger kids tips in case they ever leave."

"Ah," Harry said; after all, it made perfect sense. Now Harry knew why the kid was following him around. He probably had no clue what to do and had just latched onto Harry, thinking if he stayed with someone who'd been there longer, he wouldn't have to try and figure everything out on his own.

What the kid didn't seem to realize was that life on the streets was a fight to survive and there was never any guarantee that any would make it. Harry was barely managing to take care of himself, there was no way he would be able to look after someone else as well.

Besides, trouble always seemed to follow Harry. Every time he managed to settle in somewhere, something happened to drive him out. Harry had learned not to trust the feeling of security that started to develop whenever he became comfortable in a situation. Nowhere was safe. He had to constantly stay wary and on his guard.

"Well, the reason I ask is because we have some stuff we need to do and I'm going to need your help to get it done," Harry said, breaking the silence.

Cricket's body seemed to deflate as he relaxed his wary stance, no longer distrusting Harry's intentions. Although, Harry figured if those older orphans had taught Cricket so much, they would have also told him that you couldn't trust anyone. After all, Harry had learned that before he had even run away. So, why had the kid trusted him right off? Was it because they had helped each other out of a tough spot the day before? Did Cricket think that meant something?

_No matter_, Harry thought, _I don't care where he's come from or what his story is. I still don't trust him. I can't trust anybody._

"I'm going to let you get the food for us," Cricket's eyes widened in panic as if he had never believed Harry would make him solely responsible for something. Harry noted the reaction, thinking, _No wonder he tried to find someone else to live with. There's no way he can survive out here on his own. He'd probably be better off in one of the gangs since gang members always take care of their own. Oh well_, Harry concluded, _he's got to learn that reality isn't always easy_.

No, instead life was usually just the opposite—a struggle to get by. The sooner Cricket learned this, the better off he'd be. Thus, Harry dismissed the boy's fear, knowing that putting him in charge of something would force him to depend on himself and stretch his creativity in coming up with ways to accomplish his task.

"Listen, I'm going to tell you what to do on this, but once I tell you, you're on your own because I'm going to have to do some other stuff, got it?"

Cricket nodded, demonstrating that he was paying careful attention.

"Now, this is what I want you to do. First, you might want to ask for a bag from a grocery store. Then, you want to go to bakeries and candy stores and shopping districts. They'll usually hand out samples or they'll give you a little bit if you ask.

"After that, you want to find a street where it's really busy and a lot of people are walking around. Find a spot where most of them will have to pass you and start begging for money, food, or water, anything you can get. Do your best to look pitiful and hungry. Make sure you hide whatever food you might have and if anyone gives you anything be sure to put it away so no one sees it.

"If people see that you have already been given a lot of money or food, they'll think you're doing well enough that they don't need to give you anything. Finally, you'll want to look people directly in the eye when you're begging. It'll make them feel guilty enough to give you something. I have to warn you though, if you have absolutely no luck with either of these then you'll need to find a few restaurants and start digging through their trash for scraps. Got all that?" Harry asked.

Cricket nodded and wondered, "What are you going to be doing?"

"I'll need to find us some money so that we can buy blankets, clothes, and food. We're going to need it come winter. We'll meet back here at the end of the day, okay?"

"Sure," Cricket replied.

"The busiest places in London are that way, so I'd head in that direction," Harry instructed, sending the boy on his way before setting out to get started on his self-appointed task.

Harry knew that since he was more equipped to handle the things he needed to get done, having done it for the past 3 months already, it would be better if he left the easy stuff to Cricket. Besides, if Cricket failed and Harry didn't they would still have a chance to eat that day.

Harry only had two things he really needed to concentrate on during the day: pick-pocketing and finding trinkets. Of course, Harry would really only need to go hunting for trinkets to sell if pick-pocketing turned sour. Both jobs involved stealing though, something Harry was normally reluctant to engage in. However, small concessions needed to be made in some cases and desperate times called for desperate measures; this was about Harry's survival.

_Besides_, Harry consoled himself, _people will use power in any form they can get to control others. The rich use their wealth to keep the poor suppressed for their perverse pleasure_ _just as Vernon used his provision of the essentials and his familial position as Uncle to control me. I'm not going to let anyone control me ever again. Not with money, not with emotion, and not with force. I'd rather die fighting than submit to anyone trying to gain power over me or control me. People are only interested in making things better for themselves and that's just what I'm going to do._

Harry roused himself from his musings as he entered one of the busier sectors of the London streets. Harry would concentrate on simply picking-pockets for now. He'd only lost his previous hideout the day before so he'd eaten. If his current tasks proved fruitless then Harry would either have to try stealing from the other homeless or try breaking into homes from the residential part of London, both of which were extremely risky.

Harry began threading his way through the crowd, trying his best to mingle amongst the people in his dingy, soiled clothing with frayed edges and patched up holes. Eyeing the people he was walking with, Harry picked out those who looked rich, had loose pockets, and were in too much of a hurry to notice him.

Wishing he were taller so the action could look more natural, Harry casually brushed past his targets, slipping his hand into their pockets and extracting their wallets so lightly that they barely even noticed his presence beside them, let alone his robbery. Then using a sleight-of-hand trick, he'd slip the stolen goods into his clothes, out of sight.

Of course, he was only rewarded part of the time. Just because they were rich and had big pockets didn't mean that they kept all that money in those easily accessed portals. Some people were just as content to stow their wallet in one of those hidden pockets inside their suit jacket. Besides, rich people were more likely to use credit cards instead of carrying around lots of money. And even those who did, usually only kept a small amount of money in their wallets anyway—just enough for lunch. There _were_ occasions when Harry became lucky, however.

Harry tended to pick males wearing business suits as his prey. Women always kept their money in a purse, which usually meant it was much more noticeable if Harry tried to take something from inside it. And you could never really tell which pocket their change purse would be in and then he also had to hunt around among the other things stuffed in a purse to find it. Of course, Harry sometimes attempted it when the conditions were right. They had to be carrying just the _right_ kind of purse and it had to be positioned just so...It made it so easy to slide a hand inside and snatch a woman's pocketbook and they couldn't even feel it.

However, Harry absolutely _never_ took anything if a wallet was stuffed into a blue jean pocket. They were always so tight that Harry could only extract the wallet with a sharp tug (or four), which instantly alerted the person Harry was attempting to steal from. Unfortunately, he had learned that lesson the hard way when he first started living on the streets.

By around 2 o'clock that afternoon, Harry took stock of his collection, determining that he had enough money to get by for the day, and so decided he could skip trying to break into any houses to sniff around for necessities. Instead he continued with his current task until the crowds died out. If he _had_ needed to resort to the detestable art of breaking and entering, then he would have had to abandon pick-pocketing right away and gotten started before the majority of people returned home from a day of either work, shopping, or some other type of outing.

By the end of the day, Harry was tired and slightly hungry, having decided to pick up some food for a late lunch. It had only been a small portion of cheap take-out, but Harry was intimately familiar with the concept that beggars couldn't be choosers. Harry was rather hopeful however, as he had found enough money to buy not only a few meals, but also a few articles of clothing from a second-hand shop if he chose his purchases carefully. He would worry about the shopping tomorrow; for now, Harry just wanted to get back to the hideout where he hoped Cricket would have some more food ready for them.

Upon returning to the abandoned building, he happily discovered that Cricket's day had been as prosperous as Harry's. The pair greedily gobbled up their dinner, making sure to lick every delicious morsel from their fingers until not even the taste lingered any longer.

With full stomachs, both boys feel easily asleep in their separate corners.

The next few days developed into a routine after Harry took the time to go shopping, finding them some more clothes and blankets. Every day the two would go out—Harry to get money and Cricket to get food—and the system worked really well.

Their productivity relieved some form of unconscious tension within Harry and without even realizing it, he began to trust his newfound companion. Harry came to depend on Cricket, no longer believing Cricket simply hung around for Harry to take care of him; they took care of each other. He began to trust that even if he had a bad day with no luck, Cricket might come through for him and so they could still eat. Harry noticed that with Cricket's help, he had steadily built up their little hide-away into a proper street rat hideout. Now, Harry counted on Cricket for help as much as Cricket depended on "Snitch."

After having worked together for almost a week, Harry and Cricket had built up quite a collection of supplies, which Harry hoped would last them through winter. Everything seemed to be going their way and that feeling of security was creeping up on Harry once again, and with it, a sense of foreboding. Knowing that trouble followed in his wake, Harry began to grow more and more apprehensive the longer his luck held out. Things had never gone right for him before and now he worried that this brief reprieve was simply the calm before the storm.

Thus, when Harry returned to the hideout feeling his skin prickling in a manner eerily similar to crossing the Potter Estate Wards, he was immediately on his guard.

If there really were wards surrounding the building, then not only did it mean his new home had been invaded, but the invasion was magical in nature.

_Did my parents send someone to find me after all?_ Harry wondered. _They must have gone to the Dursleys', discovered me missing, and come looking for me!_

Hope rose within Harry and his imagination soared, conjuring up scenarios of his parents crying when they found out what had happened to him, becoming angry at the way the Dursleys treated him, and finally begging Harry to forgive them as they took him back home.

_How did they find me though? They must have been looking all over for me!_

Knowing that he just had to see if his family had really come for him, Harry rushed into the building, heedless of the consequences...only to halt dead in his tracks before coming out of the shadows, happy that he remained hidden when he saw not his mother, father, Uncle Sirius, or Uncle Remus, but instead saw a group of strangers.

There seemed to be two separate factions to this group of invaders. Four men were dressed fashionably in red and black silk clothes. Three of them seeming to guard the final member of their party, a diminutive black haired man with jewel-studded rings on each finger. Harry wondered how he knew three of them were guards, analyzing their stances and noticing how the three protectively positioned themselves around the one man in such a way that any danger would have to come though them first.

The second faction, a group of simply three men, was dressed almost the same way, except in green and black, and the guards had tough-looking armor over their clothes.

The two men who looked as if they were the leaders spoke rapidly with each other, planning something, but when Harry entered the room, they stopped, looked to the doorway where Harry remained safely hidden in the shadows, and then signaled their guards.

When the five men started to fan out, searching, Harry shifted closer to the wall, hiding deeper in the shadows.

The tiny spark of hope that had blossomed into a fiery blaze at the thought of his parents coming for him was doused completely into an ashy ruin.

_You fool!_ Harry berated himself, _They are _never _coming for you; they've forsaken you. It's time to face the facts, accept the truth, and get over it!_

Hatred flared where hope had once been as Harry cursed his family and their abandonment of him.

_But if those wards weren't from my family, then that must mean..._Harry almost gasped as the realization hit him. _Those men are wizards and that ward was probably to alert them if anyone was coming!_

And like a fool, he had crossed them without pausing to consider what it might mean. He _knew_ his parents didn't care about him or want him anymore. Why was he so desperate for them to get him that he could forget himself? Why, why, why?!

_Great, so they know I'm here. That means I need to go downstairs, gather our stuff, get Cricket, and leave before they can find us._

Sticking to the shadows, Harry crept through the building, intent on his goal. When he finally reached the basement level without detection, he was startled to find all the supplies he and Cricket had built up missing.

Incensed, Harry realized what an all around idiot he had been. Not only had he deluded himself into believing his parents had come for him, but he had also let his tentative trust in Cricket override his common sense. That _brat_ had betrayed him!

How many times had he told himself that he couldn't trust anyone? _Never again_, he promised, _never again will I trust!_

Livid beyond reason, Harry began making his way back out of the building. Just as he ascended to the upper level, Harry found himself at the wand point of two of the guards.

Taken by surprise, Harry could not put up a fight as together they shouted, "_Stupefy!_" and he submitted to the darkness.

When Harry woke, he found his head pounding, bindings wrapped tightly around his person, and half of the thugs from earlier surrounding him, the other half having disappeared.

"So, this is our little intruder then?" the man who appeared to be the green leader asked, looking to the two men who had accosted Harry at the stairs.

"Yes sir, this little street urchin must have been using this place for shelter."

"Is that right, boy?" the leader finally asked of Harry directly.

Harry nodded, his gaze wary and his body relaxed, but poised for action.

"Well, it appears you've overstayed your welcome, little boy. I'm afraid that you've caused me a great inconvenience. You see, you interrupted a very important meeting I was conducting; and now, thanks to you, my business partner has decided to take his money elsewhere."

As he listened to this haughty aristocrat whine and fuss, Harry couldn't help thinking childishly, _Well, I was here first!_

In fact, it took all his self-control to keep from blurting out the outrageous phrase and landing himself in even greater trouble.

"Since you have seen fit to ruin this golden opportunity for me, I do believe I will make you suffer for your crimes."

Without the slightest warning, the green leader aimed his wand at Harry, yelled, "_Crucio,_" and a wall of pure agony slammed into Harry.

The pain split his body wide open, white hot knives danced across his flesh, setting off every nerve ending. Harry screamed, a loud, piercing shriek that rent the air, as his body jerked and convulsed within the confines of his binds.

In the throws of his spasms he didn't even notice as he slammed his head into the ground repeatedly, opening a bloody gash at his temple that bled freely. When the green leader finally ended the curse, Harry was in such all-consuming pain that it took him several minutes to even register the fact that the pain had stopped. His body shivered with involuntary tremors and Harry kept his eyes clenched tightly shut, simply trying to breathe.

Without the slightest reprieve, the green leader incanted another spell and flashes of silver glinted as daggers flew through the air toward Harry, embedding themselves in his body as they found their intended target. Harry gave a sharp cry as the daggers pierced his skin.

When Harry opened his eyes to inspect the damage, he noticed that the daggers had disappeared, leaving behind only the bloody, weeping wounds they'd inflicted.

Wanting to hear the nosy, little brat scream once more, the man in green used the Cruciatus Curse again.

Harry lost consciousness in the intensity of the second curse and the guards had to enervate him, but after that point Harry's world dissolved into so much pain he was not fully aware of what was happening around him, or even to him for that matter. All he knew in those moments were the levels of intensity of pain that encompassed him.

When Harry's throat finally became so raw that his screams had become first hoarse and then completely silent, the leader finally grew tired of his entertainment. He nodded to his two guards, motioning for them to haul the boy away and finish him.

The guards drug the barely cognizant boy from the room, leaving great smears of blood on the floor in their wake. The two dumped the small boy on the ground in the alleyway adjacent the abandoned building.

The blast of frigid air from outside roused Harry enough that he realized these were his final moments. The guard on the right raised his wand, muttering the fatal curse that would end the boy's life, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

But just as the man uttered the last syllables, Harry, in a blast of panic, gathered his magic and pushed it with all his might towards his two attackers, blasting them both back, sending the curse wide of its mark.

With what failing strength remained to him due to a burst of adrenaline, Harry heaved himself off the ground, leaning on the wall for support, as he hurried away as fast as his inured body would allow.

He had only managed to make it half a block before the echo of footfalls alerted him to his pursuers' presence behind him. Harry's eyes darted around; he needed a place to hide. A sudden thought occurred to Harry and he looked behind him. The bloody trail from his wounds was leading his torturers right to him. He needed to take care of the mess before hiding so no one could follow him.

Harry reached for his magic once again, but when he called upon it, he felt only an empty void where is magic used to be. Did he use it all up in that blast? Harry searched deeper, finding a tiny spark buried in the depths of his magical core. Harry coaxed it to the forefront, draining most of his remaining energy as he drew the spark of magic around himself like a cloak, asking it to heal him.

While he couldn't heal all of his wounds completely, he was able to close off the worst of them and make the bleeding stop. While it did not take away the blood he was already covered in, at least he would not bleed anymore. The drips on the ground would stop as the blood dried.

Careful now not to brush up against anything, Harry maneuvered himself into a hidden alcove, watching as the two guards from before rushed past his hiding spot, believing him to have continued running straight ahead and missing the sign of the trail's end in the dark.

Harry breathed a soft sigh of relief that his ploy had worked. He forced himself to continue moving so they would not be able to come back and find him, even though he was ready to collapse. His body trembled uncontrollably, both as remnants of the pain and the effort Harry had exerted.

With his eyes hardly functioning from the beating, and the lids drooping in exhaustion, Harry had a hard time making his way in the dark. Thus, when he eventually brushed up against something soft, something that definitely did not feel like any type of structural surface found in this part of London, adrenaline pumped through his body, giving him a burst of energy, which had been flagging before.

"Well, well, what have we here?" a man's voice hissed through the darkness, startling Harry and making him jump back.

The man seemed to scrutinize the small boy in the meager lighting before suddenly saying, "Hey, boy, you look like you're in need of a good meal and nice bed to sleep in. If you come with me, I bet I can find a place for you. I bet we could even get you some new clothes."

Wary of such an offer, especially when he didn't know what the man would want in return, Harry declined and started to move away.

"Aw, don't be like that. I don't mean ya no harm. If ya just come with me, I'll fix ya right up."

"No thanks," Harry said again, starting to back away, only to run into a dark blur that had been standing right behind him. The bear of a man blocking his exit grabbed him, wrapping the small, weary boy in his massive arms. Without his magic, Harry was unable to push the man away so he simply fought using what energy was left to him, wearing himself out completely.

Seeing that he wasn't going to cooperate with them, the big man slammed an enormous hand into the side of Harry's head, plunging Harry into darkness.


End file.
